A Christmas Vacation
by DelucaBabe
Summary: AU Roswell Fic. After a rough breakup, Maria Deluca decides to spend her holidays in Boston, and she had no idea of the adventure that awaits her. Previously posted on C.I.D under the penname blondepixie
1. Chapter 1

December 20th.

Maria shivered as she pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, trying desperately to keep the expected cold from her neck. She then tugged her hat a little more securely onto her head and down over her ears and laced her wool-covered fingers together, securing her gloves. With one last look, she grabbed the handle of her moderately-sized pull-along suitcase and finally exited the airport.

When she decided to spend Christmas in Boston, it seemed an excellent idea. The thoughts of snow and obscurity pulling her from her small hometown. And Boston did not disappoint, at least on the snow side, as she was hit with huge, soft white flakes as soon as she moved away from the automatic doors.

She moved quickly to the line of white cabs she could see over to the side of the busy airport arrivals section, maneuvering expertly around her fellow travelers. If there was one thing she was absolutely an expert on, it was dodging overzealous commuters and travelers. Her many hours traveling, pursuing someone else's dreams had been a great teacher.

She signaled with a semi-free hand to a driver, her overlarge shoulder bag slipping as she did so. She quickly grabbed the bag, not wanting it to drop and therefore break her laptop that was tucked securely into the soft leather confines. The man quickly climbed out of the car and jogged the short distance to her, taking her suitcase and heading back.

Maria pulled the back door open and slid in, brushing the snow off her coat and shaking her head slight, her braids swinging with the movement. It was a thing she did whenever she traveled; French braided her hair to help avoid the _bad hair_ incidents that could arise from leaving it hanging down passed her shoulders in her usual style. Now she was as glad as ever as her long hair would now probably be frizzy and unsightly due to both the flight, the layover, and the snow.

The driver jumped in behind the steering wheel, blowing on his hands.

"It's getting colder," he said, his voice light and friendly.

"Is the snow expected to keep up?" Maria asked as she dug around her huge bag, looking for the piece of paper with the Bed and Breakfast's address on.

"Yeah, I think it's here for the holidays," he answered as he started the engine.

Maria smiled, looking forward to snuggling with a good book in front of a roaring fire with the snow falling at the window. She finally found the address and read it out for the driver.

Twenty minutes later, and Maria grinned at the brownstones that lined the street they were traveling down. Each home looking picturesque and elegant. The car stopped in front one of the row houses, and Maria quickly exited the warmth of the car, staring up at the house that would be her home for the next five days.

An elaborate sign hung from an iron post secured in the ground of the small garden that adorned the front of the house, advertising _'Evans' Bed and Breakfast. A little piece of home on the road_'." She could see a huge Christmas tree through the bay window, its lights twinkling brightly and invitingly, and there was a holiday wreath hanging on the wide double door, deep green with vibrant holly berries. The taxi driver brought her suitcase to her side and Maria handed him his fare with a healthy tip, after all it was the holidays.

"Thanks," he grinned to her and headed back to his car.

"Merry Christmas," Maria called after him, and he waved his hand in acknowledgment.

Maria grabbed the handle of her rather heavy suitcase and clumsily headed for the stone steps that led up to the front door. She had only taken a few steps when the door opened, and a figure bounded eagerly down the steps.

"Ms. Deluca?" the dark hair man asked with a smile.

"Yes," she answered, beaming at him.

"Great," he said quickly and took the suitcase from her, lifting it easily and hurried back up the stairs with Maria following.

As soon as she entered the foyer of the house, she was enveloped in warmth and the smell of cinnamon and apples.

The guy who helped her was shaking the snow off himself as he walked further into the house, her suitcase still in-hand and was passed in the hallway by a small brunette with a bright smile, who was wiping her hands on an apron and leaving streaks of flour on the material.

"You must be Ms. Deluca," she said, brushing her hair from her face and leaving behind a line of flour. "Welcome to Evans' Bed and Breakfast."

"Thank you," Maria returned as she moved further into the house, gawking at the exquisite woodwork evident in the hallway in the form of intricate cravings on the newel post at the bottom of the stairwell and the solid wood crown moldings.

"Wow, this place is amazing," she commented as she pulled off her gloves, unwrapped her scarf and tugged off her hat, her blonde braids flying in the process.

"Thank you," the woman said. "We love it. Now let's get you out that coat and into the warmth. I have the coffee pot on, or there's tea if you'd prefer. Or if you're feeling really adventurous, I have some mulled cider simmering away."

Maria grinned as she began unfastening her wool coat, "Ya know, I think I'll take some of the cider. It smells divine."

"Great," and her host turned and took a step back in the direction she had emerged from. She stopped short and spun quickly back to face Maria. "I'm sorry. I seem to have lost my manners. I'm Liz, and you've met Max, my husband."

"Maria," Maria said back as she shrugged out of her coat.

'Ok. Just leave your coat there," and she pointed to a coat stand beside the door. "Max will take it up to your room. Go and make yourself comfortable in the parlor." Liz pointed out the room with a wave of her hand as she again made off down the hallway.

Maria hung her coat on the stand, draping her scarf over the hook as well, along with her hat and stuffed her gloves into the pockets of her cream-colored coat.

She flipped her braids forward to hang over the front of her shoulders as she walked through the archway and into the _parlor, _giggling slightly at the old-fashioned name.

She was immediately drawn to the wood-burning fire blazing brightly, the crackling of the wood and the snapping of the flames sounding like music to her ears. Her feet automatically moved toward it, her hands stretched out, hungry for the warmth. The mantel was a rich mahogany with intricate designed etched into the wood and was adorned with a green Christmas garland with red berries and golden _presents_ intertwined within it, and above that was a lavish mirror, mounted in the same wood as the mantel.

Maria took a quick look at her hair, sighing at the wisps that had escaped the braids then turned her attention to the huge tree in the window. She was a sucker for a good Christmas tree, loving that far more than any other of the festive decorations. As she moved closer, the smell of pine hit her nostrils, and her mind was instantly transported to her childhood and Christmas' past. Her fingers reached out tentatively as she took a closer look at some of the ornaments hanging on the branches. There were a few baubles which had the year printed upon them, ranging from 2008 to 2012 and covered in glitter.

"One for each married year," a deep voice answered her observation, and Maria spun quickly around to see a man sitting completely at ease in a large armchair, half-hidden across the room.

"It's one of their stupid traditions," he continued to inform her. "They make one every year at some store downtown."

Maria nodded at him, wondering why he hadn't announced his presence when she had first entered the room.

He lifted the beer bottle in his hand and brought it to his mouth and took a drink, and Maria watched hypnotically as his lips encased the top and his Adams apple bobbed with the action of his swallowing the liquid. She'd seen plenty of men in her time drinking a simple bottle of beer, but this guy, the way his eyes never left hers as he drank, it was sensual and alluring, and Maria almost took a step toward him but was stopped as Liz entered the room, carrying a large silver tray with a glass pitcher filled with amber liquid and a few Irish Coffee mugs.

Liz quickly placed the tray on a round dark wood end table and smiled over to Maria. "I see you met one of our other guests," nodding in the direction of the man who had yet to introduce himself, and Maria snapped herself out of her self-induced catatonic state. "We are actually pretty empty," Liz continued, "there is just another elderly couple visiting from Florida. So if you're not happy with your room, we can move you to another."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Maria answered as she moved closer to Liz and watched as the other woman carefully poured some mulled cider into one of the glass mugs.

Liz turned and handed her the beverage with a smile. "This should warm you up."

Maria gratefully took the steaming cup from her and inhaled the spicy scents. She blew on the hot liquid, hoping to cool it enough to drink and cautiously took a slip after a moment.

The fluid and spices seemed to almost immediately warm her body as it traveled down her esophagus, then she caught the kick of the rum.

"Wow," she said with a smile. "Now that certainly hits the spot."

"Too much rum?" Liz asked her eyebrows furrowed in question.

"Not for me," Maria answered as she took another sip. It had been a very long day for her, starting early this morning with her mother begging her not to go away for the entire holiday. Amy understood why Maria felt the need for a break from their small, gossip-fueled town, but it was the holidays, and Amy wanted her only daughter with her. After she had escaped from her mother's grasp, promising to call daily and spend a significant amount of time on her cell phone, she hopped on a plane and had spent an excruciating 12 hours traveling, including a three hour layover in Washington D.C. In Maria's eyes, the rum was most welcome after finally arriving at her destination.

"Would you like some, Michael?" Liz turned to the guy in the armchair.

He smirked at her and tipped the bottle in his hand toward her.

"I guess not," she laughed. Liz turned back to Maria. "I bet Michael hasn't bothered to introduced himself?"

Maria shook her head, her eyes involuntarily flickering back to guy as she moved closer to an armchair by the fire and sank into its soft cushions, taking another sip of her drink.

"No surprises there, then," Liz laughed as she poured herself a glass full of the mulled cider. Once she had finished, she made the introductions.

"Maria, this is Michael Guerin. An old friend who's a pain in the ass but a paying guest, so we tolerate him," Liz said with a smile and an open hand in Michael's direction.

"Hey," Michael said indignantly. "Less of the old," and he smirked at her.

"I was implying we have known each other for a long time. We are the same age, remember?" Liz retorted with a roll of her eyes.

"Notice he didn't complain about being called a pain in the ass," she stage whispered to Maria.

Liz turned back to Michael. "Michael, this is Maria Deluca."

Michael grunted his acknowledgment of the introduction, and Maria smiled as she said, "Hi."

"This is where everyone is," Max said as he entered the parlor and he looked to Liz. "I've changed the sheets for Mr. and Mrs. Gleeson, taken Ms. Deluca's things up to her room, and put the order in for the groceries."

From his chair, Michael made a whipping noise. Maria suppressed a giggle.

"Did you leave me fresh towels?" he asked his friend.

"You know where they are," Max replied as his poured himself a glass of mulled cider then crossed the room to refill Maria's.

Michael looked over to Maria, catching her bright emerald eyes with his whiskey ones. "Do you really want to stay here? Next, they'll have you making breakfast."

"God, I hope not. For the sake of the other guests," Maria returned with a laugh.

"I've taken the liberty to light a fire in your room. I hope that's ok?" Max said to Maria.

"Are you kidding? Thanks, that's awesome."

This is why she wanted to spend her time in a homely bed and breakfast: For the small personal added extras that make all the difference. A roaring fire and the snow outside were both a great bonus.

"Feel free to use this room whenever you want," Liz said to Maria. "Mr. and Mrs. Gleeson hardly use it, so your only other possible companion would be Michael."

"I'm just here to make the numbers and see the sights," Michael interjected.

"And," Liz continued, ignoring Michael, "the dining room is just opposite." Maria turned to see where Liz was indicating and saw the dining room directly opposite the parlor. This was accessed through another large archway, the surround the same rich mahogany as the wood in the hallway and the parlor.

"Breakfast is usually served from 7am, but these past couple of weeks, we have had limited guests, so if you want anything before 8 just let me know. Otherwise, the buffet will be available from 8am."

Maria laughed. "I'm hoping not to be out of bed before 9. Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all," Liz echoed Maria's laughter.

Maria finished her drink, and when Max moved to replenish her glass, she stopped him.

"Oh, no more, thanks, or it will go straight to my head," she said. "Actually, I think I'm just gonna go and…"

"I'm sorry," Liz said, jumping quickly from her own seat beside her husband on an antique loveseat. "You must be exhausted. Let me show you to your room."

Liz took the glass back from Maria, placing it and her own carefully on the silver tray and headed from the room.

Maria turned to Max and Michael. "Nice to meet you both."

"You too," Max returned with a smile while Michael made a non-committal grunting noise again.

"Don't worry about him," Max explained. "We are still working on more than a monosyllabic answer."

"Good luck with that," Maria answered good-heartedly as she left the room to Max's laughter.

The room that the Evans' had put Maria in was magnificent, dominated by large, rich, rosewood four-poster bed. Maria couldn't resist the urge to jump onto the overstuff mattress, covered with a luxurious rose-colored damask comforter.

She always secretly wished to sleep in a bed like this, but never had the opportunity before. What amazed her more was the fact that she hadn't book this specific room, but now it was hers for the duration of her vacation.

On either side of the bed were matching rosewood bedside tables, each adorned with elaborate lamps. Also, there was a matching wood desk sitting between the two huge windows that looked down upon the street.

At the foot of bed was an ornate loveseat made with the same wood and upholstered in matching damask to the bedcovers, the drapes at the windows and the canopy of the bed. This seat faced the roaring fire, and Maria immediately envisioned herself curled on the sofa, reading a good book after a long day of sight-seeing.

To the right side of the fireplace, and set back in a recess, there was armoire, echoing the same wood as the other furniture, which Maria suspected held a TV. On the other side, in another recess, there was a large antique wardrobe. In fact, the whole of the furnishings in the room matched and all had that historic feel to them.

On the back of the main door, she saw her coat hanging on a hanger on a hook with her hat, scarf, and gloves on the hook. She noticed that Max had placed her suitcase on one of those folding suitcase tables and smiled gratefully to herself. On the small wall between the door and the one to the bathroom was a matching dresser with four drawers and two cupboards. Above this was an elegant mirror. On the dresser, there was a small tray with a portable electric kettle, a small bowl full of sachets of coffee, hot chocolate and an array of individually wrapped teabags.

Maria climbed off the bed and headed over the entrance to her bathroom and practically melted at the sight of the deep whirlpool tub, separate shower and double basins. All surrounded by light marble. She didn't bother opening the other door in the bathroom, knowing full well the toilet would be housed there. She then moved to the dresser and opened the cupboards to find one actually held a small refrigerator.

She smiled. The pale rose walls finished the room to perfection. They certainly thought of everything.

Half an hour later, Maria had unpacked her belongings and was settled on her loveseat with her book. The fire was still blazing, the snow was still falling, her iPod was playing soft classical music on the dock beside the bed, and she was content.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N So I went ahead and posted the next chapter. If there are any readers out there, drop a note, let me now if you like or are even enjoying this story. Or just follow the story, that's cool, too. Thanks :)

December 21st

The following day, around noon, Maria joined the swarm of people bustling along the streets of downtown Boston. The snow had stopped falling during the night, but the streets were still covered in several inches.

She had spent the last half hour wandering around St Paul's Cathedral. She wasn't exactly a religious person, but there was something about a church that always pulled her in, the majesty of the buildings never ceased to amaze her.

She was now making her way to a used bookstore, reported to be one of the oldest in America. Books were one of her things, and she couldn't pass the opportunity to browse the shop's vast stock. She casually perused the shelves, occasionally pulling a book out, reading a little, and then returning it to its place. So engrossed was she with the books that she didn't see the person next to her until she bumped into him, causing both of them the drop the books they were looking at.

"Sorry," she apologized automatically before turning to the guy. "Oh!" She was surprised to see the guy from the B & B there.

"Sorry," he mumbled and then, noticing who it was, continued. "Maria, right?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "Matthew?" she asked, purposely getting his name wrong.

"Michael," he grunted out, picking both their books up from the floor.

"Oh, right, Michael," she countered, taking her book from him. "So, are you sight-seeing, too, or just looking for old books?"

"A little of both," Michael answered.

Maria returned her book to the shelf, and then picked another further down the stack. "Is this your first time in Boston?" she asked cordially.

"Nah, I've been here a few times visiting Liz and Max," he answered, repeating her actions with his book.

"So, you've seen the sights already?"

"Some," he said vaguely, then he sighed. "Liz kicked me out the house, telling me to do something dangerous, like enjoy myself."

Maria giggled at this, and Michael actually smiled. "Yeah, she can be a little pushy. I swear she thinks she's my mother at times," he continued.

"I didn't think she would be that pushy," Maria observed.

"Wait until you've known her a few years," Michael snorted.

Maria found a book that could be interesting and indicated to Michael that she was going to the checkout. "Well, I may see you around then," she said with a smile.

"Yeah," he answered and headed off in the other direction.

Three hours later, and Maria stood outside the Old South Meeting House, debating whether to go in. It had started snowing again, and she really wanted to just sit and watch the snow and the people trying to dodge the huge flakes.

As she stood there, a figure came to a stop behind her.

"You know, the sight-seeing thing only works if you go in," a deep voice said, and Maria whizzed around to see Michael standing behind her.

"Are you stalking me, Mr. Guerin?" she asked half-jokingly.

"Ha," Michael grinned. "I knew you remembered my name."

Maria dipped her head with embarrassment at her pretense earlier. Of course she remembered his name. She remembered his eyes, too, and his lips.

"And no, I'm not stalking you."

"How did you know it was me?" Maria asked him. After all, he had approached her from behind.

"Oh come on. I'm sure there are very few people around here with such a crazy matching set," and he tugged on the length of her scarf.

Maria looked down at her scarf and gloves. They were white wool and patterned with gray snowflakes, the scarf even having faux fur bobbles. The insides of the gloves and the hat were soft and furry and Maria had fallen in love with the set immediately as soon as she had seen them when she had been internet shopping from her apartment back in Roswell, looking for winter clothing for her trip.

"Michael, take a look around. Everyone is wearing stuff like this," she said to him, spreading her arms to the area around them, and Michael actually looked, realizing how right she was.

"Yeah, well, I just knew it was you," he finally said.

"Because you're stalking me," she said with a smile.

"Am not!" he grumbled.

"Ok, Mr. _I'm not a stalker_, have you seen inside?" and she indicated to the red brick building.

Michael shook his head. "Uh huh, no way. Churches give me the wiggins."

"How on Earth can a church give you the wiggins? It's a church. A holy place."

"Yeah, where people worship a dead guy," he answered, deadpan.

"Well, I'm going in," she said, instantly making her mind up.

"Ok, I'm going to the old bookstore around the corner."

"Another bookstore?" Maria asked, intrigued. Michael, at first glance, really did not seem like the type of guy who knew how to read, never mind actually enjoy it.

"Yeah," Michael smirked down to her. "Something wrong with that?"

"No," she grinned back to him. "Well, I'm gonna head in," she said, hooking her wool-covered thumb over her shoulder to indicate the way she was going.

"Ok," Michael responded. "Maybe I'll catch ya later," he added, off-handedly.

"Probably," Maria returned.

"Probably?" Michael asked, maybe more than a little excitement in his voice than he intended.

"Well, we _are_ staying at the same place," Maria giggled.

"Oh, yeah, right," Michael fumbled. "Ok, then, enjoy your church."

"Enjoy your books," Maria threw over her shoulder as she headed in to the building.

Michael shook his head as he turned and moved down the street toward the old bookstore.

Maria made it back to the house just as the snowflakes began to whip a little fiercer, and she berated herself for not stopping and having something a little more substantial to eat than a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of soup for her lunch. She wondered if the Evans' would mind her ordering take-out.

When she entered the foyer, she stomped her boots and shook her head to try and get the excess snow off, attempting to eliminate the trail of wet water she could potentially trek through the house. She took her coat off and dropped it to the floor, along with her hat, scarf, and gloves. She leaned down to remove her boots, thinking that would be the better option and was promptly bumped in the ass by the door opening again, and she toppled forward, crashing onto her knees on the hardwood floor.

"Oh, shit," Michael called as he watched her fall, leaning forward to try and catch her before she hit the ground but failing.

"Are you ok?" he asked, concerned.

"No thanks to you," Maria mumbled as she turned to sit on her butt, her palm rubbing her knee.

"Let me help you up," he offered extending his hand to her.

Maria looked up at him skeptically.

"Come on," he grinned.

Maria tentatively slipped her hand into his, and Michael pulled her to her feet. As soon as she was standing again, pain shot through her knee, and she let out an involuntary hiss.

"Oh, shit. You're hurt?"

"No, it's ok," Maria insisted as she attempted to move further into the house, the pain shooting through her leg stopping her.

Michael moved swiftly and swept her into his arms, carrying her into the parlor despite her protests.

"Michael, put me down," she cried, her hand swatting him light on his chest, but she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. That was another check off her _to-do_ list: Being swept off her feet by a handsome man.

Michael ignored her. Instead, he called out as he walked, "Liz, can you bring some ice?"

He settled Maria on the love seat in front of the fireplace, arranging her legs so they were propped up on the upholstery just as Liz dashed into the room, an ice pack in her hands.

"What happened?" she asked, taking in the picture in front of her.

"I …..erhm….." Michael started.

"He knocked me on my ass," Maria snorted.

"Actually, it was your knees," Michael corrected her.

Maris narrowed her eyes to him as Liz handed her the ice pack, and she pressed it onto her aching knee.

"Michael!" Liz chided, shocked. "You are not supposed to injury the guests."

"It wasn't my fault," Michael exclaimed. "She was just inside the door bending down. I didn't see her."

Liz looked over the Maria, and Maria had the grace to look contrite, "I was taking my boots off. I didn't want to trek snow throughout the house."

"So it wasn't completely my fault," Michael smiled.

"Not completely," Maria admitted.

"You know," Liz said after looking between them, "maybe the ice pack would work better if it had closer contact."

"Probably," Maria agreed. "I'll just take it up to my room." And she swung her legs from the sofa to the ground and cautiously stood.

The pain seemed to have subsided, and she smiled….. until she took a step then her face contorted in agony.

"Maybe you should just stay here?" Liz offered and made to move her back down on the couch.

"No," Maria grimaced. "It'll be better if I put the ice directly on my knee. It'll be fine once I get up to my room."

Michael shook his head and stepped closer and again lifted Maria into his arm. He moved with ease with her through the house and up the wide stairs to her room.

He stood outside her room for a moment, and Maria wondered if he needed to be told to enter when he said. "Do you have your key?"

Maria's mouth formed a perfect 'O' as she whispered, "Oh."

"Oh?" Michael repeated, his eyebrow rising.

"The key is in my purse. Downstairs."

Michael rolled his eyes, shook his head, and mumbled to himself, something about ditzy blondes and stupid boots as he turned and re-traced his steps with Maria still in his arms.

When he returned to the foyer, he spied her purse which she had dropped on top of her coat and woolen accessories. He leaned over so she could pick her bag up, ignoring her other belongings, and then set off again for her room.

On the way back, Maria said to him. "You know, you could have just left me upstairs and collected this on your own."

"I don't carry purses," he grumbled.

Maria smiled at his typically male answer as she searched through her bag for the key, which was harder than she imagined with one of her arms around his shoulders. She reasoned with herself that he could probably hold her perfectly well if she moved her arm, but she really didn't want to. When they reached the top of the stairs, she triumphantly fingered the key and pulled it out of her bag, smiling as he came to a stop in front of her room door, once again.

She fumbled with the lock, eventually managing to unlock the door, and she swung it open.

Michael moved inside and then stopped short.

"What?"

Michael shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of something when Maria looked around her room and then smiled as she thought exactly the same as he had.

This room was like a romantic getaway, and Michael had carried her in. Maria started to giggle at the thought, and she looked to Michael to see a smile slowly spreading on his face.

"Just don't get any ideas, Blondie," Michael grinned to her.

"Oh, absolutely not, Michael," she returned.

Michael moved over to the bed and was about to lay her down when he changed his mind and walked instead to the loveseat and placed her down there, crouching down beside the sofa.

"Thanks," Maria said sincerely.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I hope this won't upset the rest of your vacation?"

"Don't worry, Michael, I'm a tough girl. It will take a lot more than a knee injury to keep me down."

Michael stood and looked down to her. "Do you need help?" he asked, then blushed when he realized he had just offered to get her out of her jeans.

"I can manage," Maria smirked up to him.

"Yeah, right, ok," he said, obviously flustered. "I'll be downstairs then. If you need anything."

"All right," Maria smiled with a nod.

"Ok," Michael repeated. He moved to the door, turned back to look at her, then left.

Maria struggled to stand, and she hobbled over to the bed to retrieve her baggy pajama bottoms. She decided to take a dip in the tub, hoping the heat, then the ice would help her sore knee. She stuffed the ice pack in the small fridge, hoping it would at least keep it cool and then made a move for the bathroom.

An hour later and Maria was again settled on the loveseat, the leg of her pajama bottoms rolled up high on her thigh and the cooling pack held against her knee. The bath had helped and now the pain in her knee only mildly throbbed.

As Maria's stomach rumbled for the third time, she vaguely wondered how she was going to get her dinner that evening. Just as the thought ran through her head, there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called out and smiled when Liz stuck her head through the door as she opened it.

"Maria, I was just wondering if you have eaten this evening or if you had plans to go out for some food?" Liz asked her.

"Well, actually, I was going to ask if it would be ok to order take-out?"

"Well, I have no problem with that. But I've just made dinner for us, and there is plenty if you want to join us."

"Are you serious?' Maria asked, her face beaming.

"Yeah," Liz grinned back. "It's just a simple pot roast."

"My favorite," Maria responded as she moved to lower her trouser leg and leaned over to grab her jeans.

"You don't have to change. It's only Max, Michael, and me," the other girl started, laughing at herself before specifying. "I mean, if you are comfortable sitting with a bunch of strangers in your pajamas."

"I don't mind if you don't mind."

"Absolutely not," Liz confirmed.

Maria laughed as she stood shakily on her tender knee.

"Shall I call for Michael?" Liz asked concerned.

"Oh no, it's ok. Really. I don't want it to get tight. I have a lot of sight-seeing still to do."

So Maria hobbled down the stairs with the help of Liz and joined Max and Michael in the dining room.

"Interesting dinner attire you have there, Blondie," Michael smirked at her in her long red pajama bottoms covered with reindeer heads and a red tank top as she collapsed into a seat beside him.

"Oh, bite me," she grinned back.

For the next hour, Maria learnt all there was to know about Max, Michael, and Liz.

Michael and Liz hailed from the same small town in New York State, though they weren't exactly friends. They bumped into each other on campus at Louisiana State University. For Michael, the only school that offered him a scholarship, and for Liz, as far away from her overbearing parents as she could get. They had started, what appeared to most, an odd alliance. Liz was all for academia and Michael's major at college seemed to be drinking and women, barely keeping his grades above the required level for his financial aid to continue. Nevertheless, they had forged a firm bond which extended to include Max Evans when he began dating Liz during their sophomore year. This friendship had remained steadfast after their collegiate years; to the extent of when Michael needed a guarantor for a business loan he was seeking, Liz convinced her father, a local restaurant owner to provide that signature.

Liz married Max and moved to Boston when his grandparents left him their old Brownstone house, putting her management and business skills into effect by turning the huge house in a Bed and Breakfast.

Back in Kinderhook, New York, Michael struggled with finding a career and, after running out of money to buy his beer for a Sunday football game, had decided to make his own. His friends had approved of this and paid him to make more for them, and in turn, their friends. In time, Michael had applied for a business loan, co-signed by Liz's father, and opened The Kinderhook Brewing Company, his signature beer being _Master of HopsImperial Porter._ Michael was set for life, and his life was his company. He had a brief fling with Max's sister, but that had fizzled out naturally, and she was now the Vice-President of his company. It was because of Isabel that Michael was currently visiting Boston. She had called Liz frantic to get Michael to slow down before he worked himself into an early grave.

Liz and Max had concocted a plan to get him to take a break. They told him they had a B&B reviewer planning to visit, and their booking numbers were extremely low. Could he help out? So Michael had left his hometown and arrived in Boston only to be told the ruse, and after Liz had spent a full day begging him, he agreed to stay. After all, Isabel was looking after the company, and she was just asruthlessas he was when it came to making money.

"Your company makes Whiplash Pale Ale, right?" Maria asked him.

Michael nodded.

"I love that. It's one of my favorites," Maria smiled.

"Thanks," Michael returned graciously.

"But really, you have to leave out the Metallica inspired names. It's starting to get old."

"Well, what do you recommend?" he asked, really wanting to hear her opinion. He had a new batch back at the brewery waiting for its name before it was brought onto the market.

"I don't know. I don't make beer," Maria answered with a shrug.

"What do you do?" Liz asked her.

"Well, that's a little debatable at the moment," she answered skeptically.

Her eyes looked at her three dinner companions; they were all waiting expectantly for her to tell her story.

Maria was born and continued to live in the alien capital of the world, Roswell, New Mexico. She met Billy Darden when she scouting local bars, looking for somewhere to showcase her musical and singing talent. Billy was doing the same, and they became friends, and then lovers. Maria suspected Billy of being slightly jealous of her talent, and there were times when he would take his anger out on her, but she loved him and easily forgave him, putting her own career on hold to help promote his. She sunk her hard earned money into flying around the country with him, always remaining one step behind the talent scout who Billy promised her was out there.

The last straw had been when Maria found Billy in bed with a fellow artist. His defense had been that he was a free spirit and needed to experience other women; that he was trying to find inspiration. She considered any _inspiration_ he could find between another woman's legs could damn well stay there. She walked out, never to return. Billy had left Roswell, taking his bimbette with him, moving to California and stardom or so he had proclaimed, taking half of her bank account with him.

Three months later, Billy still remained an obscure talent, her relationship with him was still the hot topic in her small hometown, and she needed a break.

"So, I hopped on a plane, and here I am," she concluded to her raptured audience.

"What a sleaze," Liz proclaimed, appalled for her new friend.

"Yeah, story of my life," Maria returned glibly. "I just can't seem to get the whole _love_ thing right. I always go for the _bad boy_, and then I'm surprised to find out he's really a dick!"

Maria watched as Liz's eye's flickered to Michael, accompanied by a smirk, and she could almost hear Liz confirm her suspicions. Michael was _bad boy _personified.

"So who wants coffee?" Liz asked a little over excitedly, standing from the dining table.

"Yeah, thanks. I'll take some," Maria answered and watched as Liz stacked the plates together and headed to the kitchen with them. Max also cleared some of the tableware and followed his wife out of the room while Michael leaned back in his chair, rubbing his full stomach with appreciation.

"Aren't you gonna help?" she asked him.

"Are you?" he asked back.

"Hey, I'm injured, remember?"

"Then why should I help? I'm a paying guest."

"You're also a friend who has enjoyed a home-cooked meal, and it's polite to help clear the table," she retorted.

"Ah, you see, that's where you went wrong, Blondie. I don't do polite," and before Maria could respond he called out, "Hey Max, I could do with another beer."

Michael swung back to Maria to see her looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"What?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders then his eyes lit up, and he grinned. "Oh, I'm sorry," and he turned his head back in the direction of the kitchen and called out, "Blondie wants one, too."

Maria actually struck his arm with the back of her hand at his words. "I have a name ya know."

"Oh, yeah." He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Marcia, right?"

"Oh, you are so droll, Michael," she said as she smirked at him, knowing he was doing it intentionally because she had acted like she couldn't remember his name earlier.

"Yeah, well, apparently names are quite confusing, Blondie."

Max returned to the table carrying two bottles of beer made by Michael's company, and as Maria twisted the cap off hers, she commented to Max, "I hope he gives you a good deal on your beer supply?

Max laughed at her. "You're kidding, right? I don't think Michael believes in deals."

"There is no such word as friends when it comes to business," Michael told her as he took a long drink, and again, Maria found herself mesmerized by his actions.

She shook her head. _Get it together, Deluca,_ she told herself. _Michael is something you do not need right now. _But the longer she looked, the more she felt he was _exactly_ what she needed right now. She turned away from him and took a drink of her beer.

When she looked back, Michael was smirking at her as though he knew precisely what she was thinking.

"Do you need any help, Liz?" she called out with a shaky voice, just for something to say to stop Michael from looking at her the way he was.

"Don't you dare move from that chair, Maria," Liz's voice floated back from the kitchen.

Maria turned back to Michael and Max to find them engaged in a heated conversation about ice hockey. She was from Roswell and knew very little about ice hockey so she took this opportunity to study Michael.

Maybe a brief, Christmas vacation fling with the man was just what she needed? That would surely get Billy out of her system. Not that she had any intention of getting back with him. He had been a mistake, she could see that now, but he had been a big part of her life for a while. She had been hurt and humiliated by his actions, maybe a good old fashioned down and dirty romp with a virtual strange would help? And Michael could most definitely be that man. He was good-looking in that whole rugged, _deal with me or get lost_ look. He was tall, taller than Billy, and had broad shoulders and a wide chest. He was muscular in a just right way, and she felt safe and secure when he had been carrying her around the house earlier that evening. She found her mind being invaded with what he would look like without his shirt on and she quickly took another drink of her beer, hoping to stop the blush that she knew would be creeping into her features and wished she had come down to dinner in something a little more than a tank top, or at least put a bra on under it.

"Here we go," Liz announced as she re-entered the dining room with a tray laden with a coffee pot, four cups, milk, and sugar.

Maria quickly swallowed the rest of her beer and then helped Liz organize the coffees.

Half an hour later, Maria made her excuses and left the dinner table, thanking Liz for the meal.

Michael offered to help her up the stairs, but she refused and now, halfway up, she was wishing she hadn't. Her knee was beginning to throb again, and she just wanted to take a few Advil and pray it would be ok by morning.

So she was surprised and jumped a little when a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She gave an involuntary shiver when his fingers brushed against the bare skin at her side. It was as if he had moved the material intentionally so he could touch her, and when she looked up to him, he smirked at her as if totally aware of the effect he was having on her.

"I saw you struggling and thought I'd do the right thing," he said by way of an explanation.

"You know, that's almost polite," she grinned back to him, enjoying his touch way too much.

"Yeah, well, just don't tell anyone and I won't have to kill you," he laughed.

"Don't worry," she beamed back. "No one would believe me, anyway."

They reached her door all too soon, and Maria was most reluctant to pull away from him, but since he had yet to remove his arm, she did and opened her door which she had left unlocked.

"So, I'll catch you tomorrow," Michael said as he finally removed his hand around from her waist.

"Why? Are you contemplating having me on my knees again," she laughed out and then stopped. "I mean…..well….. not that I meant…...It's just…..." She spluttered, searching for the right words as the blush she had stopped earlier erupted in full force and tinted her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Blondie," Michael smirked, and he leaned over and whispered, "I know exactly what you mean, and I can't say the thought hasn't entered my mind"

And with once last grin to her, he left.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks to those who are reading this, and thanks for my first review - woohoo! As requested, here is the next chapter.

December 22nd

The next morning, Maria felt she was back to her normal self, and she was up and out of the B&B before Michael had emerged from his room for breakfast. Not that she was purposely avoiding him, maybe only delaying the obvious.

She found herself at the start of the well-known _Freedom Trail_ walk through Boston, gawking at the beauty that surrounded her. Boston Common looked like a Christmas card, the trees heavy with snow and the expanse of the common all white and glistening, and she could just make out the twinkling lights of the huge Christmas tree in the distance. She currently was debating if she could walk the whole route and absentmindedly rubbing her knee. It was feeling better, but if need be, she had painkillers in her purse.

This time, she sensed Michael as he came to stand beside her. They stood in silence for a minute, both of them absorbing their surroundings, and then Michael took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air.

He turned his head to her sharply. "What's that smell?" he asked her seriously.

"What smell?" she answered indignantly, whipping her eyes to him. _Was he telling her she smelt bad?_

Michael leaned over, dipping his nose just below her ear and took a deep breath.

Maria closed her eyes when he moved closer to her and suppressed the moan that threatened to escape when he inhaled deeply, his nose gliding against her skin slightly, and she could feel goosebumps break out down her arm. When she opened them again, she was greeted with his lazy smirk, and she resisted the urge to smack him upside the head. He knew what he was doing to her, and he was doing it intentionally.

"That smell," he answered her question, only moving away from her a little.

This time, Maria grinned and answered, "Be Delicious."

"What?" Michael asked, pulling back completely.

"My perfume. It's called _Be Delicious_."

"Oh, absolutely," he grinned down to her.

Maria shook her head at him, now enjoying their banter and flirtation, her smile growing.

"Do you think you can manage a two and a half mile walk?" Michael asked her, finally breaking their eye contact and nodding in the direction the route would take them.

"Oh please. I've walked the mall for longer distances," she replied with a wave of her hand.

"I meant with your knee, Blondie," he smiled.

"Are you going to walk the trail?" she challenged.

"I'm not here for my health."

"Well, if it becomes a problem, you can always carry me."

"You just want to feel my arms around you again," he retorted.

"Yeah! That has to be it. Keep dreaming, Spaceboy."

"Spaceboy?"

"Yeah, you obviously live on another planet if you think that's what I want."

"Well, _obviously_ it's not _all_ you want," he smirked back to her as he pulled a black beanie from his pocket and tugged it on over his head, then moved off down the trail, taking in the beauty of the snow-covered trees. He stopped a few feet from her, his hands in the pockets of his coat and turned back.

"Well, are you coming or what?" he grinned to her, his eyes twinkling with mirth at his innuendo.

Maria's lips curled upward as her eyes matched his, and she hurried to catch up to him. Michael stuck his elbow out, and Maria slipped her hand in between his arm and body, and Michael pulled his elbow back to his side, holding her snug next to him.

As they exited the common and crossed the busy street, they stood in awe in front of the Massachusetts State House. Maria pulled on Michael's arm, and he reluctantly followed her up the stone steps.

They passed through the palatial halls of the magnificent building, marveling at the architecture of ages past and climbing the marble staircase to the floor with rooms on show.

The first room they passed into was white with portraits, statues, and military artifacts displayed, and they circled the room together.

"Why would you design a room with ten columns in it? Doesn't it obstruct the view of everyone in the room?" Maria asked quietly.

Michael shrugged. "I guess it was the done thing in the 18th century."

Maria stopped and pointed to some documentation. "It says here that this is not the original room."

"Yeah, but it is also says it's a restoration, so it must be almost identical to the original," Michael quipped to her. Maria stuck her tongue out at him as she moved further around the room, stopping in front of the large portrait of Abraham Lincoln.

Michael patted one of the cannons on either side of the painting. "Do you think anyone would miss one of these? It would look awesome at the front of my brewery."

"And how do you expect to get it out?" Maria asked him, an immaculate brow rising in amusement.

Michael swung his head form left to right, as if on the lookout for any authoritative figure. "Well, you have a purse. Aren't they bottomless or something?"

"I'm not Mary Poppins, ya know," Maria laughed.

"Who?"

"You are kidding me, right?"

Michael smirked at her. "Come on, Mary. Let's move on."

Maria shook her head at him, disbelieving that he didn't know the Disney classic, and let him lead her from the room by her hand.

The hall they entered into next was equally as bright as the white room they had left. The walls covered with a sand-colored stone and cream mottled marble. Two grand staircases led up to the next floor, and the room was decorated with great paintings and bronze wall friezes.

Maria stood in front of a large bronze statue dedicated to the nurses of the Civil War.

"When I was younger, I wanted to be a nurse," she divulged to Michael when he joined her.

"I bet you played doctors and nurses a lot, huh?" he answered, knocking her shoulder with his.

"Are you insinuating something, Spaceboy?" Maria asked, surprised at where their conversation was going.

"Me? Not a thing," he smirked, then he tipped his head slightly, his eyes sweeping down her body.

"What?" she grinned back to him.

"Just picturing you in one of those little white nurse's uniforms."

Maria's eyes widened in shock, then she lifted her hand and swatted his arm.

"What?" he laughed holding his arm out to stop any further attacks from her. "It looks good, babe. Incredibly hot."

Maria huffed at him and turned away, though not completely in anger. She didn't need him to see the maroon tint she knew would be creeping up her cheeks.

They continued through the historic building, making comments here and there as they went, before exiting back out on to the street to continue on the trail.

They marveled at all the sights along the trail, stopping when they reached Faneuil Hall to enjoy the market and grab a bite to eat. Michael showed Maria the Christmas store where Liz and Max purchase their special tree ornaments each year, and Maria bought one for herself and another to add to the tree at the B&B.

Maria then dragged Michael to a section of the market that house numerous wooden pushcarts selling a vast variety of products, one such stall being called _A Hat for Everyone_. Here, she made him try on several ridiculous hats, telling him he needed to loosen up and lose the boring black beanie he insisted on wearing. He grunted at this, explaining that his hat was perfectly adequate for his head warming needs, but he followed her instructions, and they eventually moved away from the stall with Michael wearing his newly purchased red and black woolen hat with a white reindeer pattern running around it and ties that dangled down either side, his old beanie lost in the bottom of Maria's bag. He felt incredibly stupid, but the grin on Maria's face made it worthwhile.

They picked up the trail and continued on the tour passing Paul Revere's house which caused Michael to run around the area screaming, "The British are coming!" He was joined in his mirth by several children there with their parents, and eventually, Michael and Maria were politely asked to leave the area.

"You do realize he never actually said that?" Maria told him as they continued on their way.

Michael just shrugged to her, a wide grin on his face.

When they finally reached Bunker Hill, they sat for a moment staring at the monument. After a while, Maria turned back to Michael and asked, "You ready to head back?"

Michael grunted. "Is there a bus we can take or something?" he moaned.

"Come on, old man. I'm sure your legs will hold out," and she pulled on his hand so he was standing.

"So what else do you plan on seeing while in Boston?" Michael asked her as they made their way back.

"Oh, I want to see all that Boston has to offer," she grinned.

"Is that right?" he returned with half a grin

"Absolutely," she flirted back.

"Actually," she continued seriously, "I was thinking about taking a trip out to Concord. I would love to visit Sleepy Hollow cemetery."

"Isn't Sleepy Hollow in New York?" he asked, thinking of _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_.

"I don't know, I was never any good with geography. I just know there is a place out there where a lot of literary greats are buried, and it's called Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. I'd like to see that."

"Ok," he agreed. "I'll see if Max will lend us his car, and we can drive out there tomorrow."

"Michael, you don't have to take me. I can rent a car or something. Please, don't feel obligated or something."

"I don't mind, Blondie. I've seen a lot of what Boston has to offer. And in case you hadn't noticed, I like to read so….. it's cool. We'll go together," Michael said.

"Are you sure?" Maria asked just to make sure.

"Of course," Michael confirmed, ending discussion on the subject. "Although, I may want something in return. You know, for giving up my precious time to your excursion."

"Yeah," she grinned coyly to him. "And what would that be?"

Michael stopped her and turned her to him, stepping closer to her, and Maria's breath hitched in her throat at the look in his eyes as he leaned down to her. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered. "My hat! I want my hat back."

Maria laughed and pushed him away from her. "No way, buddy. I'm holding that hostage until the end of my vacation."

"You totally thought I was thinking of something else," Michael grinned as they continued their walk.

"Did not," Maria returned, though her smile told a different story.

"Oh, you know you were. There's no use denying it."

So she didn't.

Once they were back in the city center, Michael asked her where she wanted to visit next.

"Trinity Church," she answered with a smile.

"Not another church," Michael moaned loudly, over-exaggerating his protests. "Are you some sort of religious nut? Do you have a secret yearning to become a nun of something?"

"Hardly," she laughed. "I just like the peace and tranquility of a church. It's settling."

"Settling? Unnerving is more like it."

"Don't be such a troglodyte," she replied as she bumped her hip against his.

"Oh, big words, Blondie," Michael teased her as he made a grab for her which she easily dodged.

"Michael, when was the last time you were actually in a church?"

"When Liz and Max got married," he answered.

"Come on, Michael. It will be spiritual," and she tugged on his arm, leading him in the right direction. Her fingers followed the contours of his arm until she was pulling on his hand, and he willingly let her lead the way, their hands clasped, and he held onto her, refusing to let her move away.

The Church was magnificent, beyond anything that Maria had seen, and she felt humbled to be there, still holding tight onto Michael's hand.

Throughout the entire time in the church, Michael had only uttered one word. "Wow!"

They re-emerged from the church into the late afternoon sunshine, and Michael rubbed his stomach.

"Let's find somewhere to eat. That way, Liz won't have to cook for us this evening," he said to her.

"Ok," she agreed. "What do you feeling like eating?"

"Anything," Michael answered. "I'm starved."

"You ate about three hours ago."

"Yeah, a whole three hours ago!"

Maria shook her head at him. "Ok, I'll make the decision then. I think …some…..seafood. After all, we are in Boston, right?"

"Whatever you say, Blondie," and Michael opened his arm to the street, indicating her to lead the way.

"You know, I could get used to being obeyed," she laughed as they started down the sidewalk.

Michael didn't answer, he just grinned to her. They walked together for a few yards, and then Michael asked, "You know where you're going, right?"

"Absolutely not," she replied. "I'm just hoping some place jumps out at me."

Michael began that low mumbling he did when she was pissing him off, and eventually, he stopped a passerby, asking the middle-aged man about recommendations for seafood restaurants.

The man chuckled at them, telling Michael they were heading in the complete wrong direction and then offered his personal favorite seafood restaurant, back the way they had come from.

Michael and Maria laughed at each other and decided to take the long route, continuing on the course they had taken until a left turn would allow them to take up the directions they had been given. They fell back into easy conversation as they strolled.

"You know, I'm not in the least surprised you're a Harley man," Maria laughed following his latest revelation.

"I might take offense to that," Michael returned, as if shocked.

"Why?" Maria asked, surprised.

"Do you like being stereotyped?" he countered.

Maria huffed. "Not all blondes are brainless."

"Exactly. I know that, but I bet you've had many people take one look at you and automatically think hot, sensual, wild between the sheets, and nothing in the head," he grinned to her.

"How would I know what people think when they look at me?" Maria asked him.

"Well, sometimes, Blondie, a guy's response to an attractive woman is hard to keep a secret."

Maria laughed at his answer.

"So, is that what _you _think?" she probed with a half-smile.

Michael looked down to her, his lips still curled into a smirk and his gleaming eyes holding hers for a second. Then he looked back to the street, not answering her question.

They continued on their way, Maria tucking her hand into Michael's elbow like she had earlier that day and grinned up to him, and he again locked his arm on top of hers so she couldn't remove her hand.

"Hey, Blondie, look. You're famous," Michael exclaimed and came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk.

Maria looked to what he was pointing to and smiled.

"Oooo, Michael. We have to buy something from in there," she said as she bounced lightly in the balls of her feet.

"Why?" Michael asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

She tugged gently on this sleeve, moving him over the entrance of the store. "It's not every day someone has a bag with their name on it," she told her as she reached for the door to De Luca's Market.

They exited the store 20 minutes later with a bottle of Di Lupo Pinot Grigio in a plastic bag bearing the name De Luca, and Maria giggling.

"I'm sure you didn't have to tell them I was their long-lost daughter," she snickered to Michael.

"Hey, you could be. You never know," Michael said in his defense as they finally hit the route that would lead them to the restaurant.

Ten minutes later, and they were sitting at table in a restaurant, and Michael approved when he saw they sold his beer here.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - Sorry this update has been a while coming. Real life has me by the horns and refuses to give up some times :) Anyway, here is the next chapter. Thanks for the reviews guys, they may be few but they mean so much.

December 23rd

The next morning, Maria glared out of her room's window down to Michael who was hitting the horn on Max's Explorer.

"Patience is a virtue," she said to herself as she turned back to the room and quickly finished sweeping her lips with her shiny gloss. She threw the tube into her purse, smiling at Michael's hat that remained in the bottom.

She had been highly tempted to remove his hat last night and put it under her pillow, but she thought that might actually border on crazy and left it in her purse.

She locked her door and bounded down the stairs like a giddy schoolgirl about to go on her first date. Liz was waiting for at the bottom of the stairs and grinned to her.

"Don't stay out too late," she said.

"No, Mom," Maria grinned back to her, glad they had forged a friendship so easily.

"I'm just saying. It's going to snow again, and you don't want to be stuck in a car with Michael. Trust me on this."

"Ok, I promise. Just a quick trip to the cemetery, maybe a little walk around the town, then home," Maria answered her.

"Michael has my number if there are any problems."

"Bye," Maria called as she left, swinging the door closed behind her.

"What was taking so long?" Michael grumbled to her as she slipped into the seat of the vehicle.

"Liz was just giving me the weather report. It's going to snow again this afternoon," she told him, her eyes lighting up when she saw he was wearing his new hat.

"Ok, so we should get this done before it hits so we can get back and off the road," he said as he started the engine and glided effortlessly into the traffic.

The drive wasn't too bad. There had been a brief moment of discontentment while trying to find a radio station they could both agree on. Michael wanted the rock channel, and Maria opted for a more easy listening station. They settled, begrudgingly in Michael's behalf, on a station that appeared to be playing Christmas tunes. Michael soon forgot his displeasure when Maria started to sing along to the music. She really had a good voice, sensual and empowering, and in spite of himself, he was soon singing along, too.

They found the cemetery fairly easily, and they weren't the only ones to brave the coming snow to see the burial site of many great and influential writers. Maria did a little giddy dance when she found the marker for Louisa May Alcott, then stopped abruptly, hearing her mother's disapproving voice in her head about _dancing on people's graves_. She then moved on to look for Nathaniel Hawthorne while Michael searched for Ralph Waldo Emerson. They met again in front of Henry David Thoreau's family plot.

"Walden's Pond's not far from here," Maria said to Michael, with a hint to her voice.

"You want to go out and look at a pond?" he asked her incredulously.

Maria shrugged, thinking it would look nice this time of year with the snow and the ice.

Michael shook his head as he said, "Come on, then, Blondie," and he turned and headed for the exit. Maria bounced with glee as she followed him, eventually catching up and latching onto his hand again, smiling to herself when he squeezed her fingers.

As they walked down to the frozen water, Maria felt in awe of her surroundings. This truly was a magical place. The scenery looking like a painting, the trees devoid of their leaves but the bare branches heavy with snow and Maria wished she had brought a camera with her to capture this beauty.

They came to a stop in front of a wall, and Michael turned, brushed some snow aside then lifted Maria so she was sitting on top of the wall. He moved in close to her legs, and she leaned against his shoulder. An elderly couple past them as they, too, took in the beauty of the area, and they exchanged smiles and _Merry Christmas's, _and Maria briefly wondered if the older couple had assumed they were a couple.

She turned her head slightly to look at Michael while pretending to be looking over the frozen lake. She supposed they made a good-looking couple. She knew she was an attractive girl, being told that since she had hit 16, and Michael was definitely high on the glorious body list, and yes they had spent the last two days in each other's company, but could this dance they were doing, this flirtatious tango, become anything other than a fling?

She acknowledged she was more than a little cautious of entering into anything else at the moment. She had been hurt by Billy more than she ever had admitted to anyone else, least of all herself. But, what if, what if Michael was the one?

"I wonder if the ice is hard enough for skating," she pondered distractedly.

"Do you have a pair of skates in your magic purse?" Michael asked her with an eyebrow raised.

"No," she confessed with a smile.

"Then what does it matter?"

"I've never been ice skating," she told him.

Michael turned to her, a disbelieving look on his face.

"You have never stepped out onto the ice?"

She shook her head. "Michael, I live in the desert. There's not a whole lot of ice around."

"You've never skated?" he probed.

"I've been to the roller rink. Does that count?"

Michael responded by lifting her back down from the wall, grabbing her hand, and setting off back the way they had come.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she struggled to keep up with his long strides, trying hard not to slide on the slippery ground.

"Back to Boston," he replied. "Ice skating on Frog Pond."

"I don't know, Michael. Remember? I have a dodgy knee."

Michael stopped his quick pace which caused Maria to dump into him slightly. He turned to her and lifted his palm to her cheek. "I won't let you fall," he said sincerely.

As she caught his eyes with hers, she thought, _this is it. He's going to kiss me._ But then he turned, and they were on their way again.

"I take it you have ice-skated before?" she asked him, a little skeptical, and also berating herself for not taking the initiative and making that first move.

"I'm captain of the Ice Hockey team back at home."

"Oh, ok," she relented and let herself be led back to the car.

An hour later, and they were back at the B&B, and Michael was handing over the car keys.

"Did you have fun?" Liz asked.

"Liz, we were looking at a load of stones to tell where dead people are. Where is the fun in that?" Michael replied sarcastically.

"Yet you still went," she returned with a knowing smile, and before either of them could say any more, she asked, "Do you guys want a sandwich or some soup before you head out again?"

"Oh, that would be great, Liz. Thanks," Maria beamed. "I know it's been at least four hours since Michael ate anything, and you know how cranky he can get."

Liz laughed at Maria's correct observation of her long-time friend. "Ain't that the truth? You go into the parlor, and I'll bring some in to you."

"Let me help?" Maria begged wanting to repay the kindness Liz had shown her.

"No can do," Liz said with a shake of her head. "You are a guest here, Maria."

"But…." Maria started and stopped abruptly when Liz held her arm out and pointed to the door.

"Oh, she's got that look on her face, Blondie. Better do as she says before she adds some healthy extras on your bill for insubordination."

"Michael Guerin, don't you dare insinuate that I would add extra costs to a guest's bill, or you will find yourself paying for two rooms instead of one."

Michael took that to heart and tugged on Maria's hand, forcing her out of the kitchen.

Liz made them a wonderful thick broth, almost like chowder, with huge chucks of chicken and lots of corn, and Maria loved it, soaking up the last bit with the last of her hot roll.

"Do you think it's wise to go ice skating on a full stomach?" Maria asked as she leaned back against her seat, her hand patting her belly.

"I think that only applies to swimming," Michael laughed at her as she toed her boots off and wiggled her toes out to the roaring fire.

"Hey, no welching on our deal," he complained to her as she moved a little on the comfortable sofa.

"I don't remember making any deal with you," she mumbled as she closed her eyes.

"No way, Blondie! No way are you going to sleep," and he moved over to her and tickled her ribs.

"No, don't," Maria squealed, her emerald eyes shining with laughter as she tried to move away from him. Unfortunately, the love seat they had chosen to sit on wasn't big, and it wasn't long before Michael had her pinned under him, his hands attacking her sides with relish as she squirmed delightfully under his touch.

"Michael, stop!" Maria begged between her laughter, "Ok, I'll go with you. Just stop."

"Say Michael rules supreme!"

"Michael, we are not 8-year-olds, ya know," she giggled.

"Say it, or I'm not letting you up."

Maria thought about that for a moment. Although in their current position, she wasn't extremely comfortable, but as she looked up to the man looming above her, she reasoned there were worse places to be in the world. Her mind just couldn't think of any. She was perfectly content to stay exactly where she was until she caught a glimpse of his hand as it slipped quickly under her sweater to rest at her side.

Michael's fingers tickled her skin mercilessly, and Maria couldn't stop the yelp of giddiness that escaped her lips.

"Ok, ok," she finally relented, and his fingers paused, but his hand remained under her sweater, resting gently at her waist.

Michael raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for the words.

Maria rolled her eyes before uttering, "Michael is the biggest, bestest man in the whole world."

Michael grinned to her. "Not the words I chose, but I guess the sentiment is the same."

"Yeah, whatever," Maria grumbled. "Now get off me, ya big lug! You're heavy."

"Now, you know you don't mean that," Michael smirked to her.

"What, that you're a big lug?" Maria asked innocently.

Before Michael could answer her, there was a cough, and they both turned their heads to see Liz standing in the archway, her eyebrow raised at the sight that had greeted her.

"Am I interrupting something?" she grinned.

"Absolutely," Michael answered her, not moving an inch.

"Michael," Maria cried, hitting him on the shoulder.

He turned his head back to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief, and she watched him as his eyes roamed freely over her face.

"Do you want me to leave?" Liz asked, amused.

"Yes," Michael replied, his eyes still trained on Maria, the same time she said, "No." Her own gazed hypnotically focused on his.

The decision was taken from them when the front door opened, and the B&B's other two guests, elderly Mr. and Mrs. Gleeson, bustled in.

Liz turned to greet them and help them with their bags while Michael reluctantly moved away from Maria, his hand slipping out from under her sweater, and Maria almost moaned from the loss of his warm hand.

"Come on then, Blondie. Get your boots back on, and we'll hit the ice."

"Yeah, probably literally for me," Maria mumbled.

"Hey, don't worry. I won't let you fall."

Maria ignored him and continued mumbling to herself, but she did pull on her brown boots.

Before she knew it, Maria was waiting in line for a pair of skates, her eyes anxiously flickering over to the frozen water.

"I'm not gonna fall in, am I?" she asked Michael nervously.

"Do you not see all those people already on the ice, babe?" he answered her, waving an arm over at the pond.

Maria was a little surprised to hear the word _babe_ fall from his lips again but took it in her stride.

"And to be perfectly honest with you," and he shifted his eyes from side to side as if he was about to tell her a national secret, "You hardly weight a thing. The ice won't even know you are on it."

When it was their turn, Michael paid for their skate rental and admission then moved Maria over to the side to help her into the skates.

"Are you sure this is safe, Michael?" she asked as he led her on to the ice.

"Perfectly," he reassured her. "During the summer, this is a wading pool, so I doubt that you'll go plummeting to your death. Just keep looking at me, and you'll be fine."

"Some people will do anything to get girls to look at them," she quipped.

"I don't see you complaining," he smirked back.

"I'm sacrificing myself for your pleasure," she grinned back to him, her eyes glimmering at his reaction to her words. "There have to be some perks, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure there are perks."

"Yeah, and what might they be?" she challenged.

"Well, one is that you are actually standing on the ice with devilishly handsome guy," Michael told her simply.

Maria looked down at her feet, shocked to see he was right. He had distracted her while moving her out into the middle of the frozen pond.

"Well, how about that?" she smiled.

Michael spent the next half hour leading her around the ice, teaching her the simple mechanics of ice skating. Eventually, Maria felt confident enough to let go of one of his hands, and they glided side-by-side with the flow of the other skaters.

Then it started to snow, and Maria was distracted by the large flakes, and she slipped, toppling to the ice, taking Michael with her. They lay there together a second, shocked, and then Maria started the giggle, looking at Michael to see his huge grin, and her giggle turned into a full-fledged laugh, which Michael echoed.

Michael quickly got to his feet, then he wrapped his arms around Maria and cautiously helped her to stand.

"Are you ok? Did you hurt your knee again?"

"No, it's fine," Maria answered him, her voice strangely low. Here she was, standing on a frozen pond with the snow falling heavy around her, and she was being held in the arms of a gorgeous stranger who was looking down at her like she was the only other person in the world. The romanticism of the moment was not lost on her.

When he leaned down to her, she could almost imagine her knees growing weak and was extremely grateful that he was holding her and was so at ease on the ice.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Michael grinned to her.

"Ok," she said with a slight smile, then his soft, warm lips were on hers. Being kissed was nothing new to Maria. After all, up until three months ago, she had been in a relationship with Billy that had lasted nearly three years, and he was hardly the first guy she had kissed. But this? This kiss was something else. She seemed to feel his lips all the way down to her toes and the tugging in her abdomen was a familiar feeling but intensified by a thousand.

When Michael eventually pulled away from her, he leaned his forehead against hers. "I've wanted to do that since you first walked into the parlor at the B&B," he admitted softly.

"So, you showed a little restraint by holding off?" she replied.

"Yeah, and it was killing me," he smirked.

"You're not the only one," Maria said as she moved her hands up and around his shoulders, one hand against the back of his neck, and she pulled him back to her, crashing her lips back to his.

"I'm starving," Michael grinned to her after they returned their skates and grabbed her hand pulling her over to the café by the pond. "I could eat their biggest burger, maybe two."

"Your dietary needs terrify me," Maria observed as they entered the warmth of the café and made their way over to get in line to place their order, Michael standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her close to him.

Maria was slightly concerned at how easy and natural all this seemed to them both. She had only met Michael a few days ago and now being held in his arms just seemed right somehow. She reasoned it was after coming from the dysfunctional relationship she had with Billy. Sure, he had would hold her hand, hug her, and kiss her in public, but Maria always had the feeling that he was doing it to stake his claim of her and to let others know that she was his girlfriend. With Michael, it felt different, even after such a short time and the few kisses they had shared. With him, it felt like he wanted to touch her, because he needed that connection, not to warn others off.

She was lost in thought and hadn't realized they had moved up the line, and when she came out of her internal thoughts, it was to see Michael looking at her intently.

"Uh?" she asked at his querying expression.

"I'm not a mind reader, Blondie," Michael laughed. "What do ya want?" and he indicated to the woman behind the counter, waiting expectantly.

"Sorry," Maria grinned to her and cast her eyes quickly to the board on the wall behind the register. "I'll take the chicken tenders and fries, thanks."

The woman nodded and rang it up on the machine, and Michael reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet.

"No, Michael," Maria stopped him. "I'll get this one. You've paid for everything else."

"Ok," Michael grinned. "I could get used to being a kept man."

"Keep dreaming, Spaceboy," Maria laughed. "Remember, I'm an out of work singer/songwriter. We can't all own our own brewery, ya know."

"Then let me pay," Michael offered.

"No. I said out of work, not penniless," Maria laughed as she turned back to the cashier. "Can I add a large hot chocolate to that?"

"Make that two," Michael added with a smile. "With whipped cream and marshmallows"

"On one," Maria told the cashier quickly as she handed over the cash. The cashier returned her change and a ticket with a number on it, and they moved off the find a table.

After their meal, they walked through the common, their hands interlaced as they talked about their lives.

Michael suddenly stopped, mid-conversation, bending down and began fiddling with his boot.

"Keep walking, Blondie. I'll catch up," he told her, so Maria turned and continued, not wanting to freeze while he was fastening his lace.

The projectile that hit her on her head shocked her, and she turned quickly to see Michael smirking at her, tossing another snowball up and down.

"Oh, that was low, Michael," she said as she took another step away from him and his menacing look.

"Actually, it hit just where I wanted it to." And he appeared to be ready to throw the one he held.

"No, Michael," Maria grinned, her hand stretched out to stop him. "That's not fair."

"I'll give you to the count of ten to get ready," he offered as he took a step toward her.

Maria looked skeptically at him and then, seeing the mischievous look in his eye, she made a dash onto the expanse of snow to arm herself.

She didn't let him finish counting as she threw a snowball which hit him lamely on the shoulder.

"You throw like a girl," he grinned.

"I am a girl," she retorted, and she bent to pick up another of the balls she had made, narrowly avoiding the snowball he flung back at her.

They dashed around the glistening area, throwing snow at each other and laughing. When Michael got bored with this, he simply tackled Maria, picking her up and then dumping her in a snow bank.

"Michael!" she cried out, her laughter telling him she wasn't completely angry with him, and he fell next to her in the snow.

They lay there together in silence in the dimming light, watching the snow fall. Michael moved closer, turning to her, so his body was flush against her and his hand moved up to brush the snow from her hair.

"You know, you're incredibly beautiful," he said softly.

Maria smiled slightly and rolled her eyes, downplaying what he was saying.

"I know my ass is freezing," she grinned back to him.

"Well, we can't have that," he smirked to her. "I'll just have to warm you up." And he leaned into her, capturing her lips with his. Maria wound her arms around him as best she could with the bulk of their coats, and she could feel the snow melting under her as her body heated up at the feel of his soft lips against hers.

Michael shifted against her, and his hand fumbled at a few of the buttons on her coat, eventually, he slipped his palm in to press against her side, still restricted from feeling her skin by her sweater. He moved his lips and pulled at her scarf to loosen it a little so he could access her neck, then unbuttoned more of her coat.

Maria shivered under him as he moved her coat aside as best he could while not moving his body from hers, trying to keep the warmth between them. His hand gliding up against her soft sweater until his fingers brushed against her breast.

Maria moaned, closing her eyes as his fingers pressed against her, wishing she could feel more, almost not caring they were lying in a bank of snow and the cold was biting through her jeans. Her mind suddenly wondering if you could get frost bite on your ass as a shiver rippled through her.

Michael lifted his lips from her neck and grinned to her. "Is that reaction from the cold or from me?" he asked.

Maria opened her eyes to fall into the amber pools of his and smiled back. "A little of both, I think."

Michael's eyes roamed her face, noting the pink tint around her cheeks, and the collection of snowflakes on her eyelids. He kissed the tip of her nose before pulling away from her and scrambling to his feet, pulling her with him.

Maria let him fasten her coat back up and tighten her scarf snuggly around her neck as she secured her hat.

"We should get you back to the B&B and get you out of those wet clothes," he told her with a lopsided smile.

"Any excuse, eh?" she grinned back.

"You wound me," Michael said in mock hurt, his hand against his chest. "Do you really think that I'm only trying to get you naked?"

"You aren't?" she asked doubtfully.

"Well," Michael said. "I wouldn't say the thought isn't intriguing, but seriously, Blondie, you must be freezing. Let's go."

Later, after Maria had changed into a fresh pair of jeans, Michael was relaxed on the loveseat in the parlor of the B&B, feet propped up on an ottoman upholstered in the same fabric as the sofa. A bottle of beer in one hand and Maria curled up beside him watching the flames of the log fire, his arm securely around her and one of her hands lay against his stomach.

"What do you think the odds are we could get Liz to make us some dinner?" he asked her before taking another drink.

"Michael, not an hour ago I watched you shove two cheeseburgers into your face. You can't possibly still be hungry."

"I'm a man, Blondie. I'm always hungry for something," he grinned to her.

"Ain't that the truth," Maria smiled back as she sat up. "Let's go out somewhere?"

"Where?"

"Michael, we are in Boston. There is always someplace to go," and she jumped from the sofa and moved into the hallway where Liz kept a brochure display of places of interest Boston had to offer.

Ten minutes later, she returned, her face showing her disappointment.

"Didn't find anything?" he asked her with a grin.

"There is plenty to do, it's just…. I wanted something fun to do," she told him as she flopped back next to him.

"Well, I know of something we can do that is a LOT of fun," he offered, his eyebrows wriggling suggestively.

Maria snorted, returning his grin. "Yeah, I think I know that, Spaceboy." Then she sat up straight. "I have it," she said her smile growing.

"Oh, you have it and then some."

Maria hit him playfully on his shoulder. "Come on," and she pulled him up to stand, taking his bottle away from him.

"Hey, no, Blondie. You can't just take the beer away. There is some left in there."

Maria looked at the bottle and then brought it to her lips and finished his drink.

"What, No!" Michael cried as he watched her, moving his arms to try and grab the bottle, but he was too late.

"That's harsh, Blondie. Drinking a man's beer," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh, you'll live. Now, go and put a shirt on or something."

Michael looked at her as if she had two heads just as Liz entered the room.

"Oh, no, Maria," she grinned. "I think you just ruined the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Why?" Maria questioned, looking between the two friends. "Because I drank his beer?"

"You drank his beer?" Liz asked, her eyes bulging in shock. She looked to Michael and back to Maria. "And yet, you live."

"Liz," Michael signed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not joking, Michael. This is serious. The last person to drink your beer spent a week in the hospital," Liz said, and she moved over to him and lifted her hand to feel his forehead. "You must be ill"

"Stop over-reacting," Michael said, pushing her hand away. "That guy was only in the hospital for TWO days."

"You put a guy in hospital for drinking your beer?" Maria asked him, shocked. "And by your beer, I mean the beer you were drinking and not the beer you brew," she clarified.

"It was a misunderstanding," Michael explained, and then he turned to Liz, pointing his finger at her. "And you know that."

"Ok, I don't think I want to know," Maria said, holding her hands up. "Just go and change your shirt, Michael."

Liz turned and grinned to Michael, obviously waiting to see what he was going to do.

"What's wrong with this shirt?" he grumbled, pulling slightly on the cotton material of his t-shirt.

"Michael, it's a Metallica t-shirt," Maria said evenly, as if that explained everything.

"And?" Michael returned.

"And if you want to accompany me out this evening, you will march up those stairs and find a nice button down shirt, change, and return quickly," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

"What if I say no?" Michael challenged her.

"Well, that's fine too, but I'll be going without you."

They locked eyes for a minute, each waiting for the other to back down, and then eventually, Michael moved away, headed for the stairs, mumbling something about bringing a shirt with him and moody blondes.

Liz watched him go, her jaw hanging open.

"I don't believe it," she commented simply once he disappeared from view.

"What?" Maria asked her, stretching up onto her toes to look at herself in the mirror above the fireplace, wondering if she needed to change her sweater.

"You," Liz replied, and when Maria looked at her through the mirror, Liz was grinning.

"I've known Michael a long time, Maria. And I have known girls who have tried to change him, and none have succeeded. And then, just like that, you tell him to change his clothes, and he goes running."

Maria raised her eyebrow to Liz through the mirror. "Is that a bad thing?"

Liz shook her head, a grin spreading across her delicate features. "No. It's definitely not a bad thing. I think you are just what Michael needs."

"Michael needs someone to tell him to change his clothes?" Maria asked, puzzled, turning around to face her host.

"No. Michael needs someone who he's willing to change his clothes for," Liz answered, and she turned to leave.

"Hey Liz," Maria called to her and Liz turned back. "Do you and Max want to join us this evening?"

"We'd love to, but Mr. and Mrs. Gleeson have booked a home-cooked meal this evening, so I'll be chained to the stove."

Maria nodded.

"Maybe we could do something tomorrow evening?" Liz continued.

"Yeah, that would be great."

Maria's eyes swung to the stairs, and she asked Liz. "Do you think he has a shirt with him?" She was now concerned that she would make Michael feel bad.

"Maria, I'm not sure he even owns a shirt, so who knows?" Liz answered with a shrug, and then went to start preparing the evening meal.

Maria bounced up the stairs to her room, deciding to change her sweater since she had forced Michael to change.

She stripped out of her dark top, tossing it onto the loveseat at the foot of the bed, and crossed the room to the wardrobe. She wished she'd brought something a little more eye-catching with her from home, but how was she supposed to know she was going a meet a man she wanted to impress? She would just have to improvise. Then she remembered the cashmere sweater that she bought at the airport in Washington, D.C during her layover. She had left it in her suitcase, as she doubted she would be needing it.

So she dug her suitcase out from under the bed, and there was her sweater: A green cashmere crochet creation that was unbelievably soft and almost indecently see-through. She hurried to the dresser and dug through her tops until she found a white thin strap tank top that she had brought along to wear under her sweaters to keep warm.

She wondered if she would have time for a shower. Maybe just a quick one: her hair would just have to make do, or Michael would probably have a fit at the amount of time she had taken to get ready. Since she had washed it that morning, she was sure it would be fine, but as she passed the mirror she decided to plug up her curling iron, a quick flick would be all it needed to disguise the fact that the ends had frizzed a little with the falling snow.

Ten minutes later, she surprised herself by being ready and left the room, returning to the parlor to find Michael not there. She figured he would be in the kitchen, harassing Liz for food, but as she entered, she couldn't see him.

"Oh my God, Maria," Liz said looking up from the table where she was making a pie crust. "That sweater is amazing."

"Isn't it?" Maria returned with a grin. "I thought Michael would be in here begging for food."

"As far as I know, he's still in his room," Liz answered with a smile. "Obviously, he's looking for something to wear."

Maria nodded and moved for the door, stopped just before she left and turned back to Liz. "Hey, Liz?"

"Room 4, 3rd floor," Liz told her without looking up from the table.

Maria smiled and made for the stairs.

She stood beside Michael's door and knocked.

"Michael," she called out.

The door opened, and Michael stood before her. He obviously had the same idea as her and taken a quick shower as there he was, all casual in a fresh pair of jeans but still without a shirt on.

Maria couldn't help but stare at his hard chest, his muscles gently defined but definitely there.

"You're drooling, Blondie," Michael smirked, then turned back into the room forcing Maria to enter if she wanted to keep talking to him.

"Am not," she bit back but followed him into his room.

His room was completely different from hers. Whereas her room was romantic and old –world, his was modern and contemporary. The furnishings were black wood, the bed huge with a deep red comforter, and Maria observed it was the perfect room for Michael.

"Hey, you room is really cool," she said as she perched on the edge of the bed, then quickly stood. After all, she didn't want to look like she was inviting something else. At least not yet.

"Yeah, I like this room. It's my favorite one here."

"Are you nearly ready?" she asked, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

"Well, I didn't exactly bring many shirts with me," he admitted and he showed her the two items he held in his hands. One was charcoal with thin red stripes running through it. The other was a deep purple plaid.

She moved closer to him, taking both shirts from his grasp and held them up to inspect them, discarding the plaid one, tossing it onto his bed, and handing the other back. "Put it on and let's go," she grinned as she stepped away from him again, not trusting herself to be close to him while he was half naked.

Michael shook his head as he slipped his arms into the shirt and began to button it up. He fumbled with the buttons though, nervous that she was watching him, and Maria laughed.

"Here," she said as she moved back over to him, unbuttoning the one he had messed up and re-fastening it, then moving on to the next one.

Michael couldn't help the snort of laughter that erupted from him, and she grinned up to him. "What?" she asked.

"I have to say, this is the first time a woman has ever fastened my shirt buttons. Normally, it's the other way around," he smirked to her.

"Really? You fasten women's shirt buttons a lot then," she asked, intentionally misinterpreting what she had said.

Michael rolled his eyes to her. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she giggled, leaving the top two buttons unfastened and straightening his collar. She brushed her hand down the shirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, not at all taking the opportunity to feel the muscles of his chest as his eyes watched her.

"You know, we don't have to go out," he said, catching her hand in his and pulling her closer.

"Really?" she replied in mock shock. "And what do you suggest we do if we don't go out?"

"Well, I have a couple of ideas." And he kissed her, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tight against him as he deepened their kiss, caressing her tongue gently with his.

Maria held tightly onto his shoulders as she felt her body melt against his. He really had a talented tongue, and it made her giddy just thinking about it.

He pulled away from her and grinned at the look of bliss on her face, her eyes still closed as if savoring every second.

"Shall we go then?" he asked her.

"Uh huh," she answered in a squeaky voice that she didn't recognize, and Michael chuckled low in his throat.

Maria snapped her eyes open at the sound and slapped him playfully on the arm. "Jerk," she said.

"Hey, I can't help it if my kisses leave you speechless," he laughed.

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" she bantered, moving to a safer distance from him. She knew it had been a mistake to enter into his room.

"Babe, your face tells me everything I need to know," he replied, his eyes sparkling a little, "and your body."

Maria huffed at him and turned her back, silently praying that her body would calm down.

Michael came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, drawing her back against him.

"We can stay in if you want, Blondie," he said low, his lips against her skin. Maria shivered as his breath blew lightly across her neck and bit on her bottom lip to regain control of her traitorous body.

She wanted to, she really wanted to stay in and do indecent things to his body, but she moved away from him, turning to flash him a smile.

"Later, Spaceboy," she said, her eyes matching his with desire, and she resisted the urge to jump into his arms and let nature take its course. "Are you ready?"

"Just gotta grab my boots, comb my hair, find my wallet and a belt," Michael replied.

"And here I was under the impression that women took longer to get ready," Maria quipped as she settled herself on the sofa along one of the walls in Michael's room, deciding that would be a safer bet than the bed.

Michael smirked at her before turning and heading back into the bathroom to sort his hair.

In a short time, Michael was finally ready, and they headed out of his room, stopping briefly at hers to grab her coat, and waving to Liz and Max as they left the house.

"Where are we heading?" Michael asked.

"Where everybody knows your name," Maria grinned back to him.

"Huh?" he asked, confused.

"Come on, you'll see," she replied, grabbing his hand, and they set off down the street.

"Cheers," Michael grinned as he lifted his beer filled souvenir dimpled mug and tapped it against Maria's.

"Did you ever see the show?" he asked after she had taken a drink of her own, her tongue snaking out to wipe the froth from her lips.

"Re-runs," she answered. "How about you?"

"Yeah, re-runs. If I did watch when I was younger, I don't remember," he responded while he was looking over the bar menu.

"Are you seriously going to eat?" she asked.

"Babe, I'm starved," he replied, looking at her as if she should surely know that, then his expression changed, a hint of mischief and cheekiness mixed together.

"I have a feeling I may have to keep my energy levels pretty high," he added with his lopsided grin.

"Oh, you think I'm a sure thing, huh?" she queried with her eyebrow raised and a smirk.

"Not at all, Blondie," he replied. "But I know I am."

To that, Maria laughed, a good full-bellied laugh, as Michael continued to smile to her, bringing his beer mug to his lips again, and she took the menu from him, looking it over.

After a few minutes, she looked back to him to see that he was still watching her.

"What?" she asked him with half a smile.

"Nothing," he answered, his grin still plastered on his face. "Just seeing if I could picture you naked."

"And?" she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Oh, absolutely," he laughed, signaling to a waitress. "Do you want another?" he asked, indicating to her beer.

"No, I'll have a Title Town Twist Cocktail, please," she replied, her head dipping again to the menu.

Michael nodded and looked again for the waitress.

"I'll share a combo platter with you," she offered, looking back up at him.

"Oh, you will, will you?" he responded with a brow raised.

Maria smiled as she nodded then looked back at the menu as the waitress finally got to them. Michael ordered their drinks, after again berating the poor waitress because the bar didn't sell his beer, then ordered the combo platter, opting for the larger option, plus the Fenway Special.

After the waitress had disappeared with their order, Maria shook her head at him.

"If you continue eating like this, you are going to have a very short life," she commented, finishing her beer.

"I'm hoping to work it off," he said seriously, his eyes holding hers for a minute before she rolled her eyes at him and grinned, shaking her head.

They left the bar three hours later, both a little giddy from the alcohol and carrying a bag that held their souvenir glasses. As they wandered down the street back to the B&B, Michael's arm wrapped around Maria's shoulders to keep her warm. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her hat, and her scarf was dangling dangerous loose. With her body flush from the cocktails she had consumed, the cold wasn't having any effect on her.

"I hope someone is still awake," Michael mused, pulling her closer.

"Why?" Maria hiccupped.

"Because, neither of us has a key to get in," he explained.

"Oh," Maria said, her eyes growing wide. "Yeah, let's hope that, then."

Michael chuckled at her. "Are you drunk, Ms. Deluca?"

"Absolutely not," Maria replied indignantly, then stumbled slightly on the sidewalk.

"OK, maybe I have a little happy buzz going on, but I'm not drunk. I still know my name!"

"Well, that's always a good sign that you're not drunk," he laughed.

They made it back to the house in less than nine minutes and were happy to see that someone was still awake, as the lights were still shining through the downstairs windows.

Michael cautiously opened the door, moving quickly in and pulling Maria after him. They sneaked through the entry to the parlor with Maria giggling and stopped quickly when they heard a loud cough.

Michael turned to see Max standing in the middle of the parlor, arms crossed against his chest. "Michael!"

"Sorry, Dad," Michael grinned, then pointed to Maria. "It was her fault."

"Hey," Maria said, slapping his arm. "Whatever it is, it's not my fault."

"It was you who insisted on that last cocktail," Michael returned to her in a knowing voice.

"Whatever," Max said to both of them as he moved to lock up the big front door. "Liz has left you a plate in the kitchen, Michael."

Michael grinned as he swung his arm around Max's shoulder. "Ya know what? I love your wife."

"Yeah, I know," Max smirked back to him as he headed for the stairs, looking over to Maria. "Can you turn the lights in the parlor off when you go up, please?"

Maria nodded as she removed her coat and hung it from the coat stand by the door.

"I think I've lost my scarf, Michael," she said and turned to see she was talking to herself.

She threw her hands up in her air, knowing exactly where Michael had disappeared to and quickly entered the parlor to search for the light switch. After she had located it, she turned the lights off and headed off to the kitchen.

Sure enough, there Michael was, seated at the large heavy oak table, picking up the food from the plate with his fingers.

"Have you heard of the new-fangled implement called a fork?" she grinned at him.

Michael looked up to her and waving his hand. "God made fingers first," he replied.

"Huh uh," she answered as she moved over and leaned around him to pick a strand of carrot from the plate.

"Well, there is no stopping you, is there?" Michael asked as he lifted some of the pie to his waiting lips.

"What do you mean?" Maria asked, sitting on the edge of the table.

"First, you drink a man's beer, and now, you're eating a man's dinner."

"Michael, you've had at least five meals todays," she replied simply.

"And….?"

Maria shook her head, smiling thinly to him as he ate more of the food. She leaned over again, reaching for another carrot when Michael slapped her hand, spraying gravy on her at the same time.

Maria looked at him in shock for a minute while he grinned back to her, still chewing on his food.

"Oh, you did not just do that," she exclaimed.

"Oh, I think I did," he returned and before she could say anything else, he dipped his finger into the gravy and dabbed it onto her cheek.

Maria laughed in disgust at him and made to wipe the gravy from her.

"Wait," Michael stopped her, his hand holding onto her wrist to stop her. He stood from the stool and closed the gap between them and licked the gravy from her face.

For a moment Maria was too stunned too move, then she said, "That's gross!"

"No, it's not," Michael answered softly, and Maria lifted her eyes to meet his and practically crumbled at what she saw there. She didn't think she had ever met anyone who was so open with his expressions as Michael was right now. She could almost feel the air crackle around them with sexual need, and she felt herself respond immediately. The blood seemed to pound in her ears and goosebumps broke out along her arms at his look. She felt the familiar fluttering in her stomach and knew there was no turning back for her. His hand around her wrist tightened, and she allowed Michael to move her arm around her back and pull her closer.

Michael held his lips an inch away from hers, their eyes still locked, and he smiled to her before moving that last inch and brushing her lips gently with his own.

Maria couldn't hold in the moan that escaped at the feel of his soft lips against hers as he kissed her tenderly, without rushing, savoring every second. She responded eagerly, trying to deepen their kiss, bringing her free hand to the back of his neck and holding him to her. She twisted on the table to maneuver her legs so he could stand between them, and he put pressure on her back with their joined hands moving her forward on the table so they joined from shoulder to hip, their bodies pressed tight against each other.

She pulled against his hand, wanting to feel more of him, but this only made him hold tighter, and the eroticism of that only made her melt more against him and her abdomen swirl with pleasure.

He was driving her crazy with his slow, intense kisses, and Maria squirmed as the ache between her legs increased.

Eventually, Michael pulled away from her, his grin returning as he watch the flush of her cheeks deepen. His head was buzzing from the alcohol, and with that thought, he pulled further away from her, his grin falling.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he said almost regretfully.

"What?" Maria practically shrieked.

Michael chuckled low at the shocked expression that replaced the look of lust she had a few seconds ago.

"Babe, we're a little tipsy here. This needs to wait until we have full capacity of our actions," he told her seriously, finally letting go of her wrist.

"You have got to be kidding me," she retorted. "I'm in complete control of my actions."

"Blondie, I don't want to do anything that you'll regret in the morning."

"Who's gonna regret this," she asked, trying to close the distance between them. Then she stopped and looked back to him. "Why won't you call me by my name?"

"I've called you by your name before, babe," was his answer, but he ducked his head, not looking at her.

"Once," Maria said. "Only once. When you met me in that bookstore."

Michael just shrugged to her, his eyes gleaming as he moved in to kiss her again gently. When he retreated this time, he pulled her from the table and led her from the kitchen, slapping the light switch as they passed.

A few minutes later, and they stood outside her door.

"I guess, goodnight then," Maria smirked to him, thinking he would change his mind now they had moved upstairs.

"You do realize this is killing me, right?" he told her as he leaned into her.

"It doesn't have to," she answered invitingly.

"Yep, you'll definitely be the end of me," he grinned as he captured her lips with his own again pressing her against the door, so she could feel how much he wanted her. Here he was, trying to do the right thing, and she was making it virtually impossible.

"Jesus, Michael," Maria hissed out, breaking away from his lips and practically rubbing herself against him. "We are two consenting adults here."

"Who are slightly intoxicated. Babe, when this happens, I want to know you want it as much as I do without adding alcohol to the mix."

"You don't think I want this?" she asked before lifting onto her toes and grazing his neck with her lips.

"Shit, Babe," Michael whispered, all about to throw his newfound ethics to the wind, but as she lowered back onto her heels, he took her face in his hands.

"Tomorrow," he said simply before he truly changed his mind.

Maria nodded, understanding what he was saying, even if her body was contemplating a revolt against her brain. She considered for a moment how he would react if she dragged him into her room and tied him to the bed.

With one last kiss, he left her there by her door with an aching inside of her that only one person could now scratch.

Maria woke in the middle of the night, her throat dry and desperately in need of a cold drink. She had been dreaming about things she had no business dreaming about. Now her body was hot and sweaty, and there was still no relief in sight, no matter how much she tried.

She crawled from the bed and over to the dresser that held the small fridge, opening it to find no water in there.

She sighed deeply, remembering she has finished the last bottle before falling to sleep, as she closed the cooler, debating whether to risk the tap water or sneak through the house down to kitchen and find a nice bottle of cold water.

The cold water won, and five minutes later, she was in the kitchen taking long gulps from a bottle of Volvic. She stood by the sink looking out onto the small backyard that was covered in crisp clean snow with large flakes still falling from the sky, the moonlight from the full moon breaking through the clouds and making the whole area bright.

"Couldn't sleep?" a voice asked from behind her, and she turned quickly, spilling some of the water as she spun around.

And there he was, standing before her in a pair of sweats and nothing else.

Maria shook her head, not trusting her voice right now.

Her eyes were transfixed on his as he walked closer to her and she swallowed involuntarily at the look his eyes held: A look of hunger, desire and pure lust.

"I couldn't sleep, either," he continued as he got nearer, and he reached for the bottle in her hand.

She gladly relinquished it, their stare unwavering, and was vaguely aware of him taking a long, slow drink.

He held the water back for her to take, and when she didn't make a move, he smirked and placed it beside the sink.

"Do you still have that alcohol-induced buzz going on?" he asked her, leaning extremely close without their bodies actually touching.

She slowly shook her head, still not trusting herself to actually answer him, and wondering if he could hear her body humming at the sight of him.

"Good, me neither," he finished, and then all bets were off as they came together at the same time, lips crashing, tongues tangling, hands touching, bodies reacting.

Michael lifted Maria and perched her in the edge beside the sink, their lips never breaking their connection, his hand moving to palm her breast through the material of her top.

Maria leaned eagerly into his touch, her hands either side of his face, guiding their kiss and her legs wrapped around his waist drawing him closer. She shivered delightfully when his thumb grazed over her erect nipple, following the action with a groan, and her hips moved against his before she could stop them.

Michael echoed her groan at the feel of her heat and moved his lips down to her throat, sucking and biting all the way until he met the soft skin where her neck joined her shoulder. Here, he bared his teeth against her creamy skin, biting gently, then licking quickly to relieve any pain he may have caused. Judging from the purring sounds she was making, he figured she was enjoying it as much as he was. His hand found its way under her red tank top to caress the side of her breast tenderly, in contrast to the harsh actions his teeth and lips were making on her neck, as if he was determined to leave his mark on her delicate body.

"Michael," she said low, in an almost dream-like voice, and he pulled away to look at her. She smiled to him, and he relished the look on her face, her full lips swollen from his kisses and her eyes bright and excited. In the moonlight that shone through the kitchen window, he could see that pink tint back in her cheeks and glowed with pride that he had caused this reaction in her.

She moved her upper body away from him slightly and pulled her top from her body, grinning cheekily at him.

"Oh God, Maria," he whispered, before he lowered his month to her exposed breast and encased her nipple.

Maria sighed as his warm tongue lapped at her, her eyes closing at the sound of her name on his lips. Then she registering he had actually called her by her name.

"Why now?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Hrmmm," he replied around her breast, not wanting to move from her.

She wound her fingers into his hair, pulling gently on his long locks but with enough force to remove him from her.

She looked deeply into his eyes and repeated. "Why now? Why have you chosen this moment to say my name?"

He moved away from her breast and met her lips with his in a sweet kiss. "Because I knew the moment I said your name would be the moment of my undoing. No turning back."

Maria beamed at his response, her eyes glistening brightly at his words, and then her smile faded, the light dimming in her eyes.

"Michael, you do realize I'm only here for a few more days?" she asked as her fingers gently played with the silky strands of his hair.

Michael's eyes scanned her face, enthralled with her beauty and nodded.

"And we are going to make it the best days of our lives," he told her sincerely and leaned in again to press a gentle kiss against her full lips.

Maria grinned against his lips and when he made to move back, she stopped him, slipping her tongue out to tease him until he opened his mouth for her.

She pressed her chest against his, and he moaned at the feel of her skin on his as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her securely to him and moved them both away from the countertop, and in the direction of the stairs and her bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks, guys, for your awesome reviews. I'm so glad you are enjoying this fic. And just to show my appreciation, here is the next chapter. Enjoy :)

December 24th

Maria awoke after a few hours' sleep to a dimly-lit room. The sun was trying desperately to penetrate the heavy drapes at the windows, and she had a feeling she should have been awake long before now. She could feel Michael still pressed tightly against her back; one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other under her neck and stretched out against the pillow.

She really wanted to resist the urge to move, just savor the moment, but her mind had other ideas, and she involuntarily stretched out against Michael's body. She was happy, satiated, and slightly sore in places, and she relished the feel of Michael's nakedness behind her.

She smiled as Michael's hand snaked up her body to grasp her breast, and his fingers stroked gently over the plump, smooth skin.

She settled back against him, enjoying his touch way too much, and then she suddenly sat up, turning slightly to him.

"It's Christmas Eve," she grinned.

"Merry Christmas, I think I got my present in the early hours of this morning," he beamed back.

Maria blushed and slapped him gently on his arm. "Behave."

"But I'm so good at being bad," he quipped playfully as he inched closer to her, his arm reaching for her and caressing her thigh.

"Nu huh, Spaceboy. No time to play. We have a lot to do today. I need to find a present for Max and Liz," she told him as she climbed off the bed, her eyes wandering the room for something to cover her nakedness. On finding nothing, she just headed for the bathroom as she was, figuring, after what has passed between the two of them several times during night, there was absolutely no need to be shy around him now.

"Do you have anything for Liz and Max," she called back into the room as she switched the shower on.

"Why?" his voice floated in to the bathroom from her main quarters.

Maria stuck her head around the door. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked, unbelieving.

Michael grinned as he shook his head.

"It's Christmas tomorrow. These are your closest friends. You have to get them something," she said sternly.

"You do realize I have an excellent view of your ass in the mirror behind you, don't you?"

Maria huffed at him and turned back into the bathroom and climbed into the shower.

"Are you coming or not?" she called out to him.

"Almost," he answered, closer than she expected as he climbed in beside her.

Michael left her to go back to his room to dress, and she finished getting ready by herself.

She bounded down the stairs, giddy with excitement for the day. Christmas Eve was always one of her favorite days, the anticipation of the big day building within her. She had finally remembered to bring down the tree ornament she had bought for the Evans' Christmas tree the other day and moved to the big tree to hang it from one of the green branches.

"Maria, I have some coffee in the kitchen if you want a cup," Liz told her as she came up beside her in front of the tree, her hands behind her back.

"That would be great," Maria beamed to her. "I thought I would add to your collection," she continued, indicating to the shining gold bauble.

Liz leaned in to look closer and smiled when she read what Maria personalized the bauble with. _For the Evans B&B. With thanks. Maria._

Liz laughed. "That's a lot to get on a bauble."

"Yeah, I know," Maria laughed back.

They stood together for a minute watching the lights flicker on the tree, and then Liz turned to Maria.

"Thank you, Maria," she said sincerely.

"It's only an ornament," Maria grinned as he heard Michael coming down the stairs, whistling some Christmas tune and Liz grinned back to Maria as she brought her hands from behind her back, Maria's red pj top in her hands.

"Oh," Maria said, blushing deeply as she took the piece of clothing from her and Liz chuckled as Michael entered the room.

"There you are," he said chirpily and both women turned to him. "I'm starved, Liz. I seem to have missed breakfast," and he bent his head to kiss Maria, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I'm not cooking you a full breakfast, Michael," Liz returned sternly. "You can have coffee and toast and be grateful."

"You're so bitchy when you aren't getting any," Michael retorted.

"No, you're too giddy when you are," she returned with a smile. She left the room, calling over her shoulder. "I'm putting the toast on, so no shenanigans from you two."

"Yes, Mom," Michael called back to her. He turned to Maria. "What's that you've got, Blondie?" he asked, perching himself against the back of the loveseat.

"My Pajama top," she replied holding it out. "Seems I left it in the kitchen last night."

Michael grinned to her. "We did leave in a hurry."

"And I see we are back to Blondie," she commented with a raised brow.

"I thought you would have had enough of me calling you by your name last night," he replied with his sexy, lopsided smile.

Maria draped her top across the loveseat arm then wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I could never get enough of you saying my name, moaning my name, or calling my name out in ecstasy," she grinned, punctuating each time she said _name_ with a kiss.

Michael's half smiled changed to a devious one as he moved closer to her ear. "How about if I whisper it?" he asked.

"I don't know, we haven't tried that," Maria answered, not moving an inch as his lips brushed her ear.

"Maria," he whispered low, and Maria's body shuddered in response, seemingly conditioned to his voice and her name on his lips.

"Yeah, that works, too," she breathed out, her eyes closed as visions of their activities sprung to her mind, and her stomach seemed to flip. She stepped away from him quickly; her hand outstretched, holding him at bay.

"Ok, new rules," she said, for some reason suddenly a little breathless. "No saying my name when we are in public."

"Whatever you say," he answered, "Maria."

Maria grinned as that flutter in her stomach made itself known again. "Stop."

"Toast is ready," Liz called from the kitchen, and Michael stood from where he was leaning, his hands reaching for her face, and he pulled her to him for a kiss.

When he moved back from their kiss, he hugged her close to him. "I don't want to stop," he confessed, barely above a whisper, but she heard him.

A few hours later, and Michael and Maria again were wandering around Faneuil Hall Market, Maria wearing a borrowed scarf from Liz and Michael's black beanie which she had dug from the bottom of her purse.

Michael had tried to convince her to let him wear the beanie, and he would gladly relinquish the ridiculous hat she made him buy the other day. Maria had replied by pulling on the side ties to give him a kiss. After a while Michael had insisted they separate for half an hour so he could do something _manly, _and they agreed to meet at Starbucks when they were finished.

Maria gladly sprang into action, looking for a gift for Liz and Max, as well as something for her mom and a new shirt for Michael.

There had been a sticky moment in the store where she was buying Michael a soft wine-colored, button down shirt, as she had no idea of what size to buy, and as she looked wildly around for someone around the same size, she spotted Michael walking slowly past the window, his eyes intent on something in the bag he was carrying, so she grabbed a sales assistant and pointed him out. With that crisis averted, she continued with her shopping, finding the items she needed for her mom and new friends, and then made a quick dash into Victoria's Secret.

She needed something else to wear this evening and found an extremely cute shirtdress but discarded this quickly, as it would also involve buying new shoes and as much as that idea appealed to her inner shoe diva, the thought of over packing her suitcase on her homeward journey most definitely was not something she wanted to do.

Eventually she found a rose colored lace v-neck top, and then a nude colored camisole to wear under it. "Perfect," she smiled as she headed over to the lingerie section.

Twenty minutes later, Maria was seated in a comfortable squishy sofa by the window of Starbucks, nursing a grande Gingerbread Latte with whipped cream, a pure indulgence drink. Her coat and borrowed hat and scarf were beside her on the worn leather, and she was looking out the window, though not really seeing. Her mind was far away, questioning what she was doing with Michael. She knew he was someone she could really fall hard for, and as much as the thought appealed to her, there was the whole geographical problem which needed to be addressed. A smile spread across her face when her eyes focused on him, walking out of the Victoria's Secret store she had been in earlier. He was grinning to himself, and Maria found herself wondering what he had bought, and was it for her? Or did he have a girlfriend back home he had neglected to mention? She answered her own question straight away with a resounding no. Liz surely would have said something if he did.

She noticed there was nobody being served at the moment so she quickly moved to the counter and ordered him a plain coffee and a ham and swiss panini. She arrived back at the sofa with his drink just as he barreled through the door, the grin on his face widening when he saw her.

"Hey, Blondie, I thought you'd still be shopping," he said after he had placed a swift kiss on her lips. He quickly removed his jacket and hat, throwing them down on top of hers, and collapsed beside her on the old leather sofa.

"Nah, I'm done," she smiled back to him, then leaned over making as if to look in his bags. "What do you have in there, Spaceboy?"

"No way, babe," he laughed, gently pushing her back with his hand so she couldn't get a sneaky peek. "And please, stop calling me Spaceboy."

"I need to have a nickname for you," she pouted. "It's not fair otherwise."

"Well, couldn't it be something more manly?" Michael grumbled.

"No way, my nickname, so my choice," Maria smiled back. "It's not like I particularly like being called Blondie, ya know."

Michael leaned in closer to her so his lips were against her ear. "I could always just go with Maria," he whispered and grinned sardonically when her whole body quivered.

Michael turned his head when a barista placed a plate on the small table in front of them containing his hot panini. He looked back to Maria, his eyes bright, and before he could stop himself, he laughed out, "I think I'm in love."

Maria shook her head to him as he pulled back quickly from her, his face registering his shock at what he had just said, and she patted his knee. "Don't worry, Michael. I know it's the thought of your hunger talking."

Michael gave her a shy smile as he reached for the Panini, bringing to his mouth, and taking a big bite, then cursed when the hot cheese burnt his tongue. He held the half of sandwich away from him as he stuck his tongue out trying to alleviate the pain, and Maria took that opportunity to take a smaller bite of his food, careful that she didn't repeat Michael's mistake.

"And there you go again, eating a man's food. Why didn't you get our own?" he moaned.

"Jeez, Michael, it was only a small bite," Maria retorted, a hand covering her mouth as she chewed on her stolen food.

Michael just shook his head then blew on the cheese before shoving as much as he could into his mouth to stop her from eating anymore.

"Don't worry," she grinned to him, "your food is safe." And she returned to her drink, sitting back against the soft cushions.

Michael relaxed a little more and settled beside her, one hand falling naturally onto her thigh as he finished his snack.

"So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?" he asked her, reaching for the other half of his sandwich.

"I don't know. I need to find some paper to wrap my gifts, but other than that, I'm open to suggestions."

"I have plenty of suggestions, babe," he smirked.

"OK," she smiled back. "Are any of those ideas something we can do in public?"

"Depends," Michael answered cryptically.

"On what?" Maria asked cautiously.

"On how you feel about public nudity."

"If there is the slightest chance I could get arrested, then you can forget about it, Buddy," she grinned to him.

"Then we'll just have to take it back to the B&B then," he replied as he leaned into her for a kiss, taking the tall cup from her hand and blindly placing on the table. Maria gladly gave him what he requested, not realizing he had moved her back down on the sofa until Michael pulled away quickly, whipping his head to the side with a menacing growl, and Maria focused on a Starbucks employee looking nervously at her.

"I'm sorry," she said timidly, her eyes shooting to Michael. "But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Why?" Michael asked his voice intimidating.

"Because," the poor girl started, then stopped, looking back to Maria. "Because…." and she gave up and just held her hands out to them both.

Maria looked back to Michael and grinned. His hand had wandered under her sweater while they were kissing, and obviously, the establishment didn't want to ruin their family – oriented business.

She pushed him back from her and sat up. "Sorry," she said to the barista, "won't happen again. Can we at least finish our drinks?"

The girl looked back to the other employees who were watching her and back to Michael and Maria. "As long as you're gone by the time the managers back, that's cool."

"Thanks," Maria returned with a smile, reaching for the cup again, finishing her drink, while Michael bristled beside her.

"I can't believe they are kicking us out for a little kiss," he said indignantly.

"It was more than a little kiss, " Maria giggled, setting her empty cup back down, noting the looks a woman with short blonde hair was giving Michael from a table not too far from them.

Maria watched as Michael winked to the other customer, and the woman blushed a little but kept her gaze on Michael.

"They are only jealous," Michael smirked to her, then leaned over to pick his coffee up, finally drinking the cooled liquid, and eyeing Maria over the top of the cup, his eyes twinkling with humor.

He stood then, and Maria handed him his jacket and hat, smiling at him when he reluctantly took the offending wool item from her. She quickly tugged his beanie over her blonde hair and slipped into her coat, wrapping Liz's scarf around her neck just before Michael made a grab for her hand and pulled her from the coffeehouse.

"Come on, Babe," he called loudly as they maneuvered through the door, "Let's go find somewhere we can fuck in peace."

Maria turned just once more to offer an apologetic smile to the workers and other customers of the coffeehouse which turned into a gleeful smirk at the obvious envious looks she received from a few of the female customers.

Once they were outside, she playfully hit him with her paper bags. "That was uncalled for, Michael."

"Nah, you know you loved it," he grinned back, tugging her closer to him and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they continued down the colonnade.

They found a stall among the wooden pushcarts that sold Christmas paper, and they both bought what they required, and then decided to head back to the B&B.

After Maria had wrapped her gifts, she decided to place them under the tree in the parlor for lack of one of her own and brought them down to the warm room, arranging them neatly under the huge tree.

Liz wandered in as she was doing this and looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"I hope you don't mind?" Maria asked, indicating to the gifts. "I may not be home for the holidays, but there is a tree, so I just had to put my gifts under."

"That's fine," Liz smiled as she placed the blanket she held in her hands on the back of the loveseat.

Maria smiled at the blanket, adorned with a jolly Santa Claus and a snowman. "Are you still free this evening?" she asked Liz.

"Yeah. Mr. and Mrs. Gleeson will be checking out this afternoon," Liz replied, settling herself into one of the armchairs beside the fire. "Did you buy Michael a present?"

"Yeah," Maria answered, sitting in the chair opposite Liz. "Do you think I shouldn't have?"

"Michael finds it hard to accept gifts, Maria," Liz said gently, not wanting to upset her. "So don't be too down-hearted if he has a little hissy fit."

Maria snorted. "Somehow, I can't imagine Michael having a little hissy fit. I think more full-blown, King Kong style tantrum would be more likely."

Liz laughed at Maria's correct judgment of her friend. "You have certainly gotten to know him well within the last few days."

Maria looked sideways at Liz, wondering if she was referring to the fact they had fallen into bed after only three days of knowing each other.

"Oh, please don't take that the wrong way," Liz added quickly. "What you and Michael do is completely up to you both. I'm not going to judge you. What I mean is you seem to understand him well. His moods and all that. You certainly don't put up with any of his shit."

Maria grinned as Michael entered the room. She watched as he looked down at the presents she had placed under the tree, and then back to her. She could also see him deciding whether to get the things he had bought, and she motioned him over with an incline of her head.

He moved quickly to her, and she stood so he could sit in the chair, and Maria settled herself back down in his lap, sitting sideways against him facing the fire. She was determined she would have as much contact with him as possible during the short time they had. And, judging by the way his hands automatically wrapped around her, finding a resting place somewhere, anywhere on her body, he felt exactly the same way.

"So what do you have planned for this evening, Blondie?" Michael asked her.

"Oh, I thought we'd go to that bar back at Faneuil Hall Marketplace," she answered swinging her head between the two of them.

"What bar?" Liz asked suspiciously.

"Mija Cantina and Tequila Bar," Maria grinned.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea," Michael said, though his smile told a different story. "Liz isn't that good at holding her liquor. And judging from last night, neither are you."

"I wasn't drunk last night," Maria said with irritation. "I was just a little tipsy, and that's because I mixed my drinks. If I stick to tequila, I'll be just fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked her skeptically.

"Don't worry, Spaceboy. I'll be just fine to keep you entertained all night," she laughed patting his cheek and blushed when Liz coughed opposite them. She had forgotten the other woman was there.

"Don't mind me," the brunette laughed as Maria's cheeks flushed. "But I have to agree with Michael: I don't handle my alcohol very well."

"Nobody has to drink if they don't want to," Maria shrugged.

"Ok," Liz answered, still unsure. "Oh, what the heck! It's Christmas, and it's been forever since Max and I have been out together."

"So it's a plan?" Maria asked her, a brow raised in question.

"Yep, I'm in," Liz agreed.

Maria's head swung back to Michael, her eyes asking her question. "Wherever you are, I'll be," he grinned to her.

Maria's insides turned to mush at his words, and again, her brain tried to rationalize this thing between them. Billy had never said anything like that to her during their full three years together, and while she knew she shouldn't compare those three years to the three days she'd had with Michael, she couldn't help the internal crave that this would never end.

She held his face between her hands and kissed him gently with no rush and oblivious to Liz's movement as she left the two alone.

They sat there together in companionable silent, each with their own thoughts, with Maria still sitting in Michael's lap, her head leaning against his shoulder. One of Michael's hands had wandered under her shirt and was tracing idle patterns against her stomach while Maria's fingers moved up and down his arm in feather-like touches, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind.

On one sweep down his arm, she continued until she held his hand in hers, her fingers delicately gliding along his. She lifted one of his digits and traced over it with the pads of her own, as if committing to memory every inch of his hand. She repeated her actions with the other three, Michael watching her intently a wistful smile on his face. Finally, she lifted his hand and brought it to her lips, her eyes shifting to look deep into his and she placed a faint kiss against his thumb.

"Ah, Morris," a voice said softly behind them and they both turned, Maria holding his large hand in both of hers, to see the elderly Mr. and Mrs. Gleeson standing under the archway. "Do they not look so cute together?" Mrs. Gleeson continued. "They remind me so much of us when we were younger."

Maria and Michael looked at each grinning as the couple entered the parlor and sat on the loveseat, holding hands.

"Do you lovebirds mind if we," Mrs. Gleeson looked at her husband for a second, "What do they say these days," then she looked back to the two by the fire, "cramp your style? Is that correct?"

Maria smiled. "We don't mind at all. Do we Michael?" and she turned to see a grimace on his face, so she elbowed him in the ribs.

"You know, we met in Boston," Mrs. Gleeson told them, leaning forward a little in her seat. "At Christmas," and she nodded as if the emphases the point. "That's why we always return to this beautiful city."

"How long have you been married?" Maria asked politely.

"51 years," Mr. Gleeson answered with a loving smile to his wife.

"I won't lie to you both and say they were all blissful years, but we got through a lot together, and I wouldn't have it any other way," Mrs. Gleeson said, patting her husbands hand where it held hers.

"Mr. Gleeson," Max called from the hallway and the small desk they had placed to take care of checking out needs.

Mr. Gleeson squeezed his wife's hand and stood, walking around the loveseat. He paused when he got closer to Maria and Michael, and leaned over a little conspiratorially to Michael and said, "I'd keep hold of this one. She's a real looker."

"Don't I know it," Michael grinned back. "A firecracker too."

"Michael," Maria exclaimed, her hand hitting his stomach in disgust.

"Just telling it like it is, babe," Michael beamed to her.

Maria huffed at him, turning away slightly and folding her arms across her chest.

"Oh don't you worry, young man," Mrs. Gleeson said with dainty smile on her aged face. "Us women like to pretend we are angry with our men when in truth, we just want to rip their clothes off. Isn't that right, dearie?"

Maria's shocked expression was a picture at the older woman's remark, never suspecting in a million years such a polite old lady would say such a thing. She could feel Michael chuckling at what Mrs. Gleeson had said.

"Are you ready, Martha?" Mr. Gleeson called from the hallway, and Mrs. Gleeson stood and walked back to meet her husband, patting Michael gently on his shoulder as she passed.

"It was nice to meet you," Maria called to them as they rejoined under the archway, and Maria couldn't stop her smile as she noticed the mistletoe above their head. She pointed upwards, and the elderly couple both looked up at the same time.

"Do you remember our first kiss under the mistletoe, Morris?" Mrs. Gleeson asked her husband.

"Of course I do, Martha," and he turned to her, gathering her in his arms and kissed her gently on the lips.

Maria sighed at the sight, thinking it was so cute this couple was still so in love after all this time, her eyes flickering to Michael to see he looked a little uncomfortable.

When they moved apart, Mr. Gleeson looked back to Maria and Michael.

"You kids have a great Christmas now," he said as he bent to pick up their suitcase.

"Oh, let me," Max offered, taking the case from his hands and heading out with it.

"Merry Christmas," Maria called after them as they moved out the door with one last wave. She turned to Michael, her eyes roaming his features as she heard a car door close, and Max bounded back into the house, closing the door from the cold air.

"Michael, throw another log on the fire," he called as he passed the parlor entry and headed for the stairs.

Michael's eyes had been locked onto Maria's as she looked at him, and he smirked to her, his hands falling onto her hips, and he lifted her from his knee so he could stand and do as Max had asked.

While Michael poked at the fire with the long iron, Maria moved around the room until she was standing under the mistletoe hanging from the dark wood of the archway.

Michael turned to her, and she smiled to him, beckoning him over with her finger. He moved torturously slowly over to her, and when he stood before her, her eyes drifted up and he followed her gaze until his spied the foliage above them.

He smirked down to her as he wrapped his arms around her gathering her as close to him as he could. "So, you wanna rip my clothes off yet?" he asked her.

"All the time," she replied, her hands roaming over the muscles in his arms and up and over his broad shoulders, and when he didn't lower his head to her, she reached up on her tiptoes so she could kiss him.

She purposely kept their kiss sweet and gentle, pulling back slightly when Michael tried to deepen it, then returned to torture him a little more. Michael responded by holding her tighter against him and tried again to turn the kiss more passionate. Maria managed to move away slightly once more, and she smirked at him when he growled low in his throat at her teasing.

Her smirk turned to an 'humph' of surprise when he moved her back against a wall, pinning her to it so she couldn't move, and then he practically ravished her lips with his own until Maria could hardly remember her own name, her legs long given up on holding her, and she relied completely on the wall or Michael to keep her upright.

"Oh shit, Michael," she whispered when he finally released her lips, her breathing ragged.

"Babe, it turns me on so much when you cuss," he whispered against her ear.

Maria huffed at this. "Everything makes you horny," she retorted with a smile.

"Nah, just everything about you," he reasoned before capturing her lips with his again. He picked her up this time, her legs wrapping around him on their own accord, and it wasn't too much later before he stumbled in to her room with her.

"Ok," Maria grinned around the table to her new friends. "One more for the road." And she signaled again for a waitress so she could order more drinks.

They had arrived at the bar just after 8pm, and now, three hours later, Liz really looked like she couldn't take anymore liquor. The brunette was snuggled up against her husband with a wisp of a smile on her face, and her eyes sort of glazed over.

"One more," she agreed, holding her hand up, her index finger pointing up to indicate 1.

Maria had truly introduced Liz to the delights of tequila, taking the opportunity to try a few she hadn't yet sampled herself. She thought the idea of their _Tequila flights _was genius. That way you could taste different tequilas and find the one you liked the most.

"This place is amazing," Liz grinned to her husband. "Why have we never been here before?"

"Because, until recently, you swore you didn't like tequila," Max answered her with a grin.

"But I loooovvveeee tequila," Liz replied a confused look on her face.

"You see what you have done, Blondie?" Michael said to Maria from his place beside her, his arm draped casually across her shoulders.

Maria beamed at Liz as her hand lifted to interlace her fingers with Michael's where they hung just past her shoulder.

"I didn't force her to try the drink. She could have stuck to her sangria," Maria replied.

"I think when she tried your Mexican Mudslide, that was the beginning of her undoing," Max laughed watching his wife as she picked up the drinks menu and tried to read it. She moved the booklet in closer to her eyes and then away and look of concern on her face.

"I think I need glasses, Max," she said sadly.

"No, baby, you just need a clear head," Max reasoned as he reached to take the menu from her.

"Hey," a male voice said.

"Well, hello," Maria grinned back to the new waiter who had appeared at their table. He was tall and muscular with light blonde hair and a smattering of soft looking facial hair on his chin. He was tanned and looked like he belonged on the west coast, not here with the snow. His blue eyes sparkled as Maria looked at him, seemingly to forget the man sitting beside her.

"What can I get you guys?" he asked with a smile and a wink to Maria.

"Where'd the other girl go?" Michael asked this new waiter before he could stop himself, sitting straight in his seat as the watched the tall guy sweep his eyes over the blonde at his side, and he unconsciously gripped her fingers tighter between his.

"On her break," he answered Michael's question, shifting his eyes between the two.

"You're yummy," Liz drooled to the waiter.

"Liz!" Max exclaimed, smiling at his wife with shock.

"Oh, but I'm married," Liz told the waiter her voice sad until her eyes shifted to Max. "Happily married." And she smiled at her husband.

"Nice save, Parker," Michael grinned to her.

"It's Evans now, Guerin. You should keep up," Liz answered sincerely.

"So?" the waiter repeated, tapping his pen against his order pad, his brows lifting in question.

"Sorry," Maria said to him with an enticing smile. She turned to Max.

"I'll just have another beer," he answered, leaning back against the booth with an amused look on his face.

"Liz?" Maria turned to see her new friend seriously inspecting the ends of her long hair.

"Uh" Liz said looking up at the blonde.

"What would you like to drink?" Maria asked with a giggle.

"I don't know," she answered with a shrug, and then leaned over the table a little and whispered loudly to Maria. "The words won't keep still on the menu."

"Ok," Maria laughed at the obvious drunken state of the slight girl.

She picked up the drinks menu and quickly scanned it again. "She'll have a Watermelon-berry cooler."

"Ok," the waiter smiled back to her. "And you?" he asked invitingly.

"I'll have a Beach Bum," she grinned back to him.

"That can be arranged, babe," the waiter replied

"Her name isn't babe," Michael growled from where he was sat between Maria and the waiter and the guy actually took a step away from him.

"And a Corazon, as well," Maria added, passing the menu to Michael, her eyes narrowing at him.

"I'll just have a beer," Michael huffed to the guy, staring menacingly at him.

"Can you bring him a Milagro Select Barrel Reserve, as well, please?" Maria asked the waiter, her fingers gently caressing his where they held each other.

"Sure," the waiter smiled to her and turned to fill their order.

Once he had left, Michael turned to Maria. "What was that?"

"What?" Maria asked with shrug of one shoulder.

"You were flirting with the surfer poster boy."

"I was not," she lied, her eyes shifting to Liz.

"Oh, you were, girl," Liz grinned, not helping.

"I wasn't, I'm trying to get a cut on our tab," she reasoned. She turned to Michael. "Do you really think I would flirt with a guy with you sitting there?"

Michael shrugged his answer.

"But he was sooooo hot," Liz sighed, trying to be helpful. "And he obviously likes you."

"Liz, you're not helping," Maria said low, leaning over the table slightly. "And you," she turned to Michael. "You were flirting with that woman in Starbucks earlier."

"I was not," Michael exclaimed, trying to pull his hand away from hers, but Maria wouldn't relinquish her hold.

"Michael," Maria said gently, turning her body to his so she could look at him. "It doesn't matter who we flirt with, what matters is that we are here with each other in this moment in time and that we will be together for the little time we have. No amount of flirting with insignificant others will change that."

"Insignificant?" Michael asked her, his smirk finally coming back.

"Absolutely," Maria returned with her own smile moving closer, her hand snaking up and around his neck to bring him to her for a tantalizing kiss.

"Nice save," Liz whispered to Max, snuggling up beside him.

When the waiter returned with their drinks, Liz giggled at the disappointed look on his face at the sight of Michael and Maria still kissing passionately. He placed their drinks in front of them and with one last look at Maria, he left.

"Ooooh, what's this?" Liz grinned as she picked up the colorful drink in front of her.

"That is what Maria ordered for you, so be careful. God knows what's in it," Max said, his fingers sweeping delicately across her forehead and moving a few strands of her fine hair from her eyes.

Maria heard her name and pulled back from Michael, her head swinging to the two sitting opposite her and Michael. "What was that?" she asked.

"I was just telling Liz you ordered this drink for her," Max explained.

Liz was sipping on the straw, her eyes wide at the taste of the drink and she waved her hand to Michael and Maria in a circling motion. "You can continue."

"Thanks," Michael grinned to her and grasped Maria's face between his hands, and moving her back to him for another searing kiss.

"What did you say that for?" Max moaned to his wife. "I don't particularly find it entertaining watching them make out."

"Oh, hush up, Max." Liz said, taking another sip of her drink. "How often to you see Michael this relaxed?"

"Well, you have a point there," Max grinned as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips.

Michael was gently caressing Maria's cheek with his rough fingers, and Maria shivered at his tender touch, and she felt Michael smile against her at the reaction she was obviously having from him.

She pulled back slightly, her lips an inch from him. "You're pretty sure of yourself, Spaceboy," she whispered, her voice low and sultry.

"You forget, I know how well your body responds to my touch, Maria," he answered her with a wicked smile, his own voice deep and sensual, and Maria closed her eyes as a low moan escaped her at the swirling sensation she felt within her, and she sank against him, her head against his chest.

She opened her eyes again to see Liz and Max watching them, both with idle grins.

"What? she asked them.

Max just shook his head, his smile still plastered on his face, and Liz sat a little straighter in her seat. "Nothing," she squeaked out. "This drink is sooooo delicious."

"Let me try?" Maria asked moving away from Michael, missing his body almost immediately and leaning over the table to take Liz's drink.

"Only a sip," Liz warned her, her eyes intent on the level of fluid in the glass.

"Keep your panties on, Liz. I'm not going to drink it all," Maria sniped goodheartedly before she took a drink.

She handed it back with a smile, her eyes bright. "That's really good."

She licked her lips slowly, and smirked over to Michael when he groaned, his head dropping to his chest.

"Something wrong, Michael?" she asked, patting his knee.

"Like you don't know, Blondie," he growled out.

"Yeah, well, it looks like I know your body just as much as you know mine," she grinned to him.

"Hey," Liz called out a little louder than she intended. "There will be no talking about sex at this table."

"Of course not, Mom," Michael chuckled as Maria reached for her own drink and her grin widened before she took the straw between her lips and sucked gently.

"You're killing me here, babe," he groaned as he slumped down in his seat a little.

"Then get your mind out of the gutter," she said after swallow her drink. "Here Liz, try this," and she handed over her own glass for the other girl to taste.

Michael shook his head at them and lifted his bottle to his lips, taking a long drink.

Liz giggled as she handed to drink back to Maria and then picked her own back up.

"You do realize Liz may now be incapable of cooking Christmas dinner for us tomorrow?" Max told her.

"What?" Michael said, sitting taller looking at Max in shock.

"You know how well she handles a hangover. It will be a miracle if we see her at all tomorrow," Max laughed to Michael.

"Ah, shit, babe. Now look what you've done."

"How is this my fault?" Maria asked, taking another drink.

"It was your idea to come here," Michael replied.

"And you introduced her to tequila," Max added. Liz has always been a little conservative when it comes to alcohol.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Maria answered with a smile. "She may have a killer hangover, but I have the killer cure." She turned to Michael. "So don't worry, Michael, you will still get your feast."

"Oh, I hope so," he grinned to her with his eyebrows wriggling.

"Don't be crude, Michael," she said with a slap of her hand on his arm.

"Erhm, guys?" Max's voice drifted over to them. Michael and Maria turned to him to see Liz slumped against him, her eyes closed.

"Guess the party's over for Liz," Maria said as she lifted her friends glass and took another drink

"Best drink up so we can get her home," Max said gently as he moved his arms around his wife, drawing her closer and trying to make her comfortable.

"You heard the man, drink up," Maria instructed to Michael. She lifted her own glass and drew the straw out. She tossed it over her shoulder and drank straight from the glass.

Michael smirked at her as he, too, brought his bottle to his lips, and Maria watched him drink his beer, as mesmerized as she had been that first time she had watched him drink in the parlor at the B&B.

She knew he knew what his actions were doing to her, probably had known from the beginning, and their grins matched as their eyes meet, both portraying the same feelings.

Once they had finished their drinks, they lifted their shot glasses.

"To new friends," Maria said.

"To endless nights," Michael added.

Max held up his cell phone in between the two small glasses. "To calling a cab and getting us home before you two rip each other's clothes off and go for it on the table."

Maria and Michael grinned to him and tossed their shots down.

Maria woke to darkness, her hair sprawled out on the black satin pillow of Michael's bed. They had returned to the B&B pretty quickly, and Max had wished them both goodnight and carried his sleeping wife off to their rooms.

Michael and Maria had lost no time in finding a bedroom. Michael insisting they used his this time, as he wasn't sure how much more he could take of Maria's_girly_ room.

Now, he lay beside her snoring, but softly and almost soothingly, as opposed to the train wreck that had been Billy's snoring.

She turned her head to find the time and moved slowly from the bed so not to wake Michael. She grabbed the black shirt he had been wearing that evening, slipping it over her body as she gently opened the door and stepped out.

She bounced softly down the stairs, passed her own room, and continued down to the first floor. She quickly headed for the back door, praying that the Evans' didn't have a security alarm on the door. Before opening the door, though, she snapped back around and headed back to the parlor. The Christmas tree lights remained on, so she had a little light as she reached for the blanket Liz had placed over the back of the loveseat earlier.

She wrapped it over Michael's shirt, and grabbing a pillow from another chair, she walked back to the kitchen. She reached for the door again and held her breath as she turned the knob and opened it. No insistent wailing hit her ears, so she left safe to walk through, stopping herself again briefly to stuff her feet into a pair of worn slippers that had been left by the entrance. Judging by the size, they were Max's.

The night air hit her body, and she shivered as she continued out into the small backyard and over to a garden chair. Obviously, someone had been out earlier, as the snow had been brushed off the seat, and she placed the pillow on the seat, vowing to pay for any damages she might cause to the fabric. She sat on top of the cushion, bringing her legs up and wrapping the blanket around them, as well as her body.

She leaned back against the chair, tipping her head back and staring up into the clear sky. The snow had stopped falling a few hours earlier, and the clouds had quickly moved to leave a beautiful night sky, with the stars twinkling and the full moon shining brightly.

She sat there for about ten minutes until she heard the door open again, and she heard Michael's voice calling out to her.

"What the hell are you doing, Blondie? It's freezing out there,"

"I'm looking for Santa," she said quietly, not wanting to wake anybody.

She felt Michael move over to her. "Did you say you're looking for Santa?" he asked her with a smirk.

"Huh hu," she replied her eyes still on the clear night sky.

"You do know he doesn't exist, right?" he questioned.

"Shush, Michael," she said quickly, finally turning her gaze to him. "If you say that, he won't visit. And I, for one, want my presents."

Michael chuckled low at her as he moved closer. He grabbed her upper arms and lifted her out of the seat to stand on her feet. At her quizzical look, he shook his head and squeezed in behind her to sit on the chair, hissing as his t-shirt covered back hit the cold damp chair back. He tugged on the blanket that covered Maria, and she fell back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her, tightening the blanket to keep her warm.

He tilted his head up to the heavens, and Maria leaned her head back against his shoulder so she could look up again.

"Beautiful," Michael whispered, his eyes watching the skies.

"Isn't it?" Maria agreed. She moved in Michael's lap to pull her legs up again to stop the cold air from freezing them, but the space on Michael's lap was limited and as she wiggled to get comfortable, she giggled at Michael's groan in her ear. She eventually settled and leaned back against his shoulder again.

"Every Christmas Eve, I sit out waiting for that elusive glimpse of the big man. I have done since I was 7," she explained to him.

"Yeah, but winters in Roswell are definitely not New England winters," Michael answered her, rubbing her arms in an attempt to keep her warm. "I hope to God you have something on under that blanket, Babe."

Maria took his hand and slipping it between the blanket so he could feel the cotton of his shirt, and Michael smiled, seemingly understanding immediately that she was wearing his shirt. He moved his hand down beneath the blanket until he could feel that softness of her skin.

"You only have my shirt on, that's it?" he asked, shocked.

Maria nodded against his shoulder. "That's why I stole Liz's blanket," she smiled.

"Babe, you are gonna catch pneumonia," he said, concerned.

As if the punctuate his fears, her body chose that moment to shiver violently.

"That's it," Michael growled and made to stand up.

"No, wait, Michael," Maria stopped him, her hand moving to his chest, and the blanket dropped a little from it place around her.

Michael glanced down to see only a few buttons of the shirt were fasten, and he had a perfect view of her breast, the nipple standing to attention because of the cold, and his hand fell over it.

"Just keeping you warm," he smirked at her look to him.

"Shhh," she repeated, not really caring why he was holding her.

"What?" he asked low, his ears straining to hear what she was obviously listening for.

When Maria finally heard the jingling of the sleigh bells, she smiled brightly to Michael. Michael looked disbelievingly to her as the sound grew a little louder.

"What the…." He started but Maria didn't let him finish. She quickly placed her hand over his lips, her eyes wide.

"You can't cuss when Santa is around," she said sincerely. "Otherwise, you'll only get a lump of coal."

"It's not Santa," he mumbled against her palm and Maria giggled at the feel of his lips and moved her hand away.

"Of course, it is," she smiled. "What else could be it?"

"A million things, Blondie," Michael answered her but his eyes did trail back to the skies when the jingling got a little louder.

"I don't care what you say, Michael," Maria pouted. "It's Santa."

She turned to him a little more so she could kiss him lightly on the lips.

"Now, take me back to bed," she grinned to him.

"Oh, I can most definitely do that," he smirked back and inched forward on the chair, then stood with her in her arms, and they headed back indoors.


End file.
